


We Are Young (And Sometimes Reckless)

by trulybetold



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Skateboarding, Summer, bookstore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulybetold/pseuds/trulybetold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke inhales sharply, "Well, the Greek root lex refers to words, which are in books, and you work in a bookstore...surrounded by words..." Lexa flashes Clarke a faint expression of awe followed by a light laugh. Or... the AU where skateboarder Clarke can't stop thinking about the cute bookstore girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Dude, are you serious?" Clarke asks, her expression incredulous. She took off her denim shirt, opting to tie it around her waist and wiping the sweat from her forehead. It was no warmer than usual for an afternoon in DC, but the humidity was starting to pick up. With the weather growing increasingly sticky, Clarke's irritation only develops further. Granted, they were all broke and that was attributed to their lack of motivation to get a job and their parents' reluctance to reward their laziness.

Raven shrugs her shoulder, bubble gum snapping between her teeth. She wore a dark grey tank top with spots that darkened under her arms. She shifted her weight onto her braced leg, the metal parts letting out a dull creak. She tucks her hands into her pockets, as if by magic something else will appear, but pulling out the empty fabric, she snaps her gum again. "Look, I said I got some, not a lot."

"This is a dollar sixty-three, a dusty lifesaver, and gum wrapper," Octavia clarifies, recounting the change in her hand. "Oh, excuse me, a dollar seventy-three." She muses, an eyebrow quirked.

Clarke groans loudly. The three of them stand beneath a stop sign, traffic zooming by. Clarke drops her board, resting her foot on top. She points to Octavia's open palm, "What the hell are we supposed to get with this?"

Popping her gum, Raven narrows her eyes. "Uh, hey, doctor's daughter, where's your buy in?"

Clarke digs into her back pockets, pulling out a five dollar bill and giving it to Octavia. "Mom's been holding out on me," she says, rolling her eyes. "O? Anything?"

Octavia hands the money back to Raven, and reaches for her backpack. The dingy pink bag is decorated with various patches and Sharpie doodles, courtesy of Clarke. After a moment, she manages to scrap together three dollars and eighty-two cents. She sighs dejectedly, "I could probably get some more from the guys but they'll want to hang out, so..."

"Nah, it's girls night. Time to resort to plan B," Clarke sighs, a smirk on her lips. She knows she doesn't need to elaborate on exactly what she means.

Octavia just laughs, clapping her hands together in excitement. Raven jumps in the air, her brace landing with a loud clank. A wild grin appears when she says "Hell yeah! Time to play hustle the tourists! Riverside or the mall, where we thinkin'?"

\-------------

An hour later and a quick skate to the National Mall, the girls set up. Clarke has her guitar over her shoulder, while Raven arranges a plastic paint tub between her feet, getting a rhythm going. Hundreds of out of towners cross in front of them, a few of glance at the latest side show. Clarke picks up on Raven's beat and begins singing an Fleetwood Mac song. Octavia sits behind them, penning a sign on a piece of cardboard. Once finished, she fishes a tambourine from of her backpack and plays sloppily to the beat. Raven just laughs as she reads the sign: Homeless youth, needs new leg brace to walk. "So, you think I can finally get a new leg brace, Octavia?"

"Oh, gosh, I hope so. Lord knows you need a new one," Octavia plays, both of them acting for the gathering crowd of tourists. "Hey, everyone," she shouts above Clarke's singing, "Help a homeless girl get a new brace, her Obama care hasn't kicked in yet," she says with an added pout.

A few senior citizens ooh and ah, shaking their heads for the poor girl with the broken leg brace and her two friends that are probably homeless. Clarke tries her best not to laugh, closing her eyes to focus on her singing. Those stupid tourists fell for it every time.

Two Fleetwood Mac and three Rolling Stones songs later, the girls decide to call it quits. Octavia snatches up the old snap back that held the donations, dumping it in her backpack before pushing the cap back on Clarke's head. "Never fails," she laughs as the three girls skate away.

Heading to their own neighborhood, Clarke shouts back to her friends, "How much do you think we have?"

"Definitely enough for booze and a pizza!" Octavia hollers, hanging on the the straps of her backpack as she follows Clarke's path.

Raven pumps her good leg on the asphalt, maintaining her speed with Octavia's. "Hey, yeah, you can thank the crippled girl for that."

Clarke lets out a forced laugh, "Ha! Yeah, right, it was my lovely voice that lured the tourists-"

"I mean my tambourine skills are pretty tight, so," Octavia laughs again. The three friends continue bickering over their respective roles in their little game for a bit longer before stopping into their favorite liquor store. And by favorite, it simply means they didn't ID. Or just didn't care. Then again, neither did the girls. After shelling out for a six pack and bottle of whiskey that fits snugly in Octavia's backpack, they leisurely start to Clarke's.

The blonde weaves easily on the sidewalk with her longboard, the wind laps at her cheeks as she jokes with her friends. In these moments, Clarke feels her happiest. She has her best friends at her back, a stash of booze, and a board beneath her feet. It was simple, but she loves it. There was nothing else Clarke could ask for, except...

She stops suddenly, sending Octavia and Raven slamming into her. "Whoa, what the hell, Clarke!" Raven exclaims, trying to find her balance.

"The booze, dude!" Octavia adds, tightening her straps with a furrowed brow. She smooths out her hair, little pieces of wind-whipped hair extending from the braids on the sides of her head. She glances around, quickly realizing what made Clarke stop.

Clarke stands silent in front of a red store front, the sign overhead reads Polis. "I put in a request last week, it will just be real quick!" She promises with pleading eyes as she backs toward the door.

The two girls groan simultaneously, Raven muttering curse words beneath her breath. Octavia puts her hands on her hips, "That's why you brought us this way?"

Throwing back her head with mock villain laughter, "Come on, guys, you should know better," She reaches for the door handle and says "Just wait outside then."

"No way, it's hot as hell out here," Raven comments dragging Octavia behind them, the brunette stomping her feet childishly.

The bookstore was cool inside, smelling with a certain duskiness of old books that only Clarke appreciated. She inhales deeply and smiles. The lighting was dimmer than any Barnes and Noble, the shelves overflowed with old and used books. The wooden floors creak beneath their feet, their boards dragging at their heels. Clarke's voice rang into the empty store, "Jaha, your favorite customer is here!"

There was no response, but a shuffling in the upstairs section. Clarke breathed a laugh, exchanging a knowing look with the girls. Jaha wasn't exactly known for his grace, he was always stumbling over stacks of books despite his constant effort for organization. Clarke turns to the stair case expecting to see his fumbling stature, but someone else appears in his place. A girl. The three friends exchanged a look of confusion. The girl forces a tight smile, tucking her long wavy hair behind an ear. "Uhm, sorry. Jaha isn't here right now, but I can probably help you. What are you looking for?" She inquires politely.

This girl is beautiful, no... gorgeous. Clarke is practically taken aback by her. She wears a red plaid flannel and a little straw hat that she somehow manages to make attractive. Her smile is small, but suiting. Black shorts show her tan legs that end in black high top Converse. Her hands fold in front of her and she starts to descend the stairs until she is face to face with the blonde. "Uh, I think I reserved a book?"

"Is that a question or a statement, Griffin?" Raven jabs her side, Octavia giggling. They recognize Clarke's tone. It was the holy-hell-this-girl-is-cute tone, which was a combination of stammering and a nervous laughter.

The girl smiles, nodding her head. "Okay, which one?"

"Yeah, Clarke, which one?" Octavia teases, sharing another knowing glance with Raven.

Clarke eyes her friends with daggers, which only escalates their laughter. She turns back to the patient girl, tucking some blonde hair behind her ears. "Yes, it was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Jules Verne. Jaha said he'd keep an eye out for me?"

The girl tilts her head to the side, like a wondering puppy, before clicking her tongue. "Right, okay," she decides, heading to the counter. "Uhm, he didn't say anything, but maybe he put it here," she mumbles. She disappears behind the counter, a shuffling sound accompanying her movements.

Taking this moment, Clarke shoots her friends a open-mouthed grin with wide eyes. She mouths, "She's hot!"

The darker brunette shifts her weight to her braced leg, "Get her number!" Octavia agrees, flashing a thumbs up.

Just then, the girl reappears. "No book. I can check upstairs," she starts, pointing to the sci-fi section housed in the upstairs corner.

Clarke knew that section like the back of her hand but, she shrugs casually, "Yeah, that'd be cool." The girl begins for the stairs, and Clarke follows her after a shove from her friends. She trails after the girl, not being able to stop herself from appreciating how nicely the black shorts hug the girl's curves. Once there, the girl scours the shelves, her finger trailing along several works before getting to the Verne section. Clarke watches her intently and the way her olive eyes quickly scan every title before frowning in disappointment.

"No book, but we have a lot Verne if you want to try something else in the mean time," she offers, with a half-smile.

Smiling back, because the girl has an amazing smile (even if it was only a slight one), Clarke shakes her head, shoving her hands in her jean pockets. "Nah, it's cool," she says, the girl glancing again toward the Verne section in defeat. "Uhm, where is Jaha?"

"Oh, he's visiting his son," the girl answers, looking to her customer again.

Clarke, places a hand to her forehead, "Oh, yeah! Wells is graduating from police academy, I forgot," she grins. The girl brushes her hair back again, shifting her balance. Clarke knew the girl was simply being polite, but she wanted to know more and was eager to keep up the conversation. "So, did he hire you to watch the shop then while he's out of town?" She quickly asks.

"Yes, to organize. I've been up here all day," the girl says softly, eyeing the back shelves. Her eyes move downstairs and a slightly pained expression crosses her brow before she adds, "Still a lot to do."

Clarke does the same, "Yeah, but looks better already," she turns back, and bites her lip. "By the way, I'm Clarke. I basically come here all the time."

Crossing her arms with a smirk painting her face, the girl nods to the Verne section, "So, did you really need my help?"

Caught, Clarke laughs nervously, the grip on her board tightening. "Ha, uhm, yeah. Nope. But, I guess I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

A faint blush traces the girl's cheeks as she tries to look away. "You probably know this place fairly well then."

"Definitely, spent a lot spare time here trying to avoid real life, responsibilities, and all that," Clarke says, then wonders if she's making herself out to be some slacker skateboarder. She changes the subject, attempting to put on an extra thick layer of confidence, "So, are you going to tell me your name or should I refer to you as cute bookstore girl?" The girl's blush gives a rise to her cockiness, a trait that often gets teased by her friends.

"Ha, wow," the girl says, rubbing her arms. Her smile didn't fade when she says coolly, "It's Lexa."

"That's fitting."

"How so?" Lexa raises her brow, wondering.

Clarke inhales sharply, "Well, the Greek root lex refers to words, which are in books, and you work in a bookstore...surrounded by words..." Lexa flashes Clarke a faint expression of awe followed by a light laugh. Clarke presses her lips together in a firm line, feeling overwhelmingly awkward. She was spoiling it. "Right, okay, I'm gonna go before I embarrass myself even more." She heads downstairs, Lexa at her heels and faces her friends. "No dice, we can go," she says abruptly, pushing her friends for the door.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" Octavia sasses, struggling with the weight of her backpack and the blonde's sudden need to leave. Clarke glances behind her, and Lexa leans casually on the counter, observing them. She flashes an awkward smile, still attempting to get her friends out the damn door.

Raven lets out a loud laugh, "It's in her pants!" Her laughter is immediately joined by Octavia's which juxtaposes Clarke's reddening face. As they finally leave the shop, Clarke steals one last look. Lexa waves, her lips pulled in an amused smile.

"I hate both of you," Clarke utters as she skates to catch up to her friends, the thought of Lexa's smile whirling in her mind.

\-------------

"Dude, please, she works in a bookstore. She probably loves that dorky shit," Octavia comments, shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth. The three were around the kitchen island, Raven and Octavia perched on the barstools while Clarke preferred the countertop. They had long changed into their pajamas after stashing the booze in Clarke's closet. They were buying time before Clarke's mom would leave.

"She probably thinks I'm the most awkward person ever," Clarke corrected.

Raven threw an M&M into the air and caught it in her mouth, "That's because you are." Clarke responded with an M&M to the forehead. "Ow, relax. Look, just go there tomorrow and ask her out. Simple as that."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Yeah, easier said than done. I can't ever show my face in there again," she sighed dramatically.

Raven and Octavia shared an annoyed look before they each threw popcorn at Clarke. They all laughed, but the food fight was cut short when Clarke's mom walked into the kitchen.

"Clarke? Really? How old are you?" Her mom hassles, her hand on her hip, popcorn crunching under her Nikes. She wore scrubs, which meant it would be just a few more minutes until they had the house to themselves.

"Don't worry, Mom, we'll clean up," she answers in a flat tone.

Abby shakes her head, retrieving her packed lunch from the fridge. "Girls, try to keep it down tonight. You know how Mr. Wallace gets after 9 PM."

Groaning, Clarke spins on the counter. "If that old man can't take it, then he shouldn't be living in a college town."

"Clarke," her mom scolds, her eyes stern and voice sharp. Then, with a mouthful of M&Ms, Raven waves down Abby. "Yes, Raven?" Her tone softens.

"Can you look at my knee? I think I tweaked it skating today?" Raven asks, putting on her puppy dog eyes while getting her hundredth eye roll from Clarke.

"Mom, she's fine," Clarke punctuates. "Aren't you running late for work?"

Abby dismisses Clarke with a wave of her hand. She gestures for Raven to stick out her bare leg, the girl did so weakly, dramatically Clarke notes, and rests her foot on Abby's thigh. Abby peers down at the knee, focusing completely on the scarred skin of the younger girl. Raven makes kissing faces to Clarke, who crosses her arms in total annoyance while Octavia suppresses her giggles. Abby runs her hand over the knee, "A little swollen. You shouldn't be skating," she lectures, letting down the girl's leg gently. "You know the drill, rest-"

"Rest, ice, compression, and elevation," Octavia and Clarke say together almost robotically. They burst into giggles, but Abby shoots them an annoyed glare.

Raven props her leg on an empty barstool next to her, rubbing her faux injury. She shrugs her shoulders, maintaining strong eye contact with the doctor. "Abby, it's our life. I can't have a bum leg making me fall behind these two nerds," Raven spoke honestly, albeit dramatically.

The doctor pats Raven's thigh, "Just be careful." Raven nods, before coyly grinning to Clarke once Abby's back turns. "Clarke, I'm working the ED tonight, so only call if it's an actual emergency-"

"If it was an actual emergency, I'd just call 911. They'd actually pick up," Clarke retorts.

Her mother shoots her a sharp look. She opens her mouth to speak, but decides the argument wasn't worth it. "Night, girls," she says hastily before exiting the house.

"Little harsh, Clarke," Octavia states, stuffing her face with more popcorn.

Clarke jumps down from the counter, "It's true," she turns to Raven, "'Oh, Abby, my leg hurts, please fix it'," She whines in a nasally voice, "Bull shit, your leg is fine and for the millionth time: STOP. HITTING. ON. MY. MOM."

The Clarke's friends burst into a fit of giggles. Raven tries to talk through them, "Hey, who's hands were on who?," she snorts, "She almost got to second base at the rate we were going-"

"Oh, my god. Gross, stop." Clarke leaves the kitchen, trying for her bedroom, the two cackling hyenas behind her.

"Guess who's the new Mrs. Griffin?" Octavia adds.

"Never gonna happen!" Clarke shouts, disgusted as she shuts her bedroom door behind her.

Raven pushes the door open anyway, helping herself to Clarke's vanity. She finds a light colored scarf and tucks it neatly into her bun. "I'm thinking a double wedding, me and your hot mom, obvs, and you and cute bookstore girl." Octavia tosses a fake stuffed rose from Clarke's vanity to Raven, humming the bridal song. Clarke tries to ignore them,but laughs as she rummages through her laundry pile for the alcohol. "Stepmother is too evil, so Mommy Dearest will do. But, don't worry, Clarke. I'll be a cool mom," she continues, giddy with her own humor.

The blonde lets out a sarcastic laugh, "You're soooo funny." She slides the six pack towards Octavia's feet, holding the whiskey in her hand. She sees Raven mimicking a walk down the aisle, Octavia using M&Ms and popcorn as celebration rice. "Really? Really, guys?" This time they all burst into a fit of giggles, before Octavia passes them each a beer. It was lukewarm, but Clarke doesn't care.

She wants to forget about her mom. Forget about how her mom basically lives in the hospital and only uses their home for sleeping. Forget how broke she is but how she's determined spend her summer vacation on vacation. She wants to leave behind the memories of a shitty semester, a semester filled with disappointment from her mother, endless arguments with her ex-boyfriend, and a really close run in with the cops. Clarke wasn't a bad person, but she wasn't the person her mother and Finn wanted her to be. She felt pressured. And that pissed her off. So, she wanted to forget it all.

What she didn't want to forget was the amused expression of the cute girl behind the counter at the bookstore. Raven was right. Stopping in the next day for a friendly hello would be just that... friendly. She grins widely and foam drips from her lip. She wipes at it with the back of her hand. "Can we just get really drunk?"

Raven matches her smile, playfully punching Clarke in the arm. "'Course, dear."

Octavia clinks their bottles together, adding a very giggly "Always."


	2. Chapter 2

Staring into the cloudy sky, Clarke smiles. She's leaning back on a lawn chair in Octavia's yard, enjoying the weather while her two friends bicker in the garage.

"No, Octavia, you gotta clean the cylinder heads before inserting the spark plugs," Raven directs, handing her a rag.

Octavia huffs in annoyance from beside her motorcycle, "I know that."

"Do you?" Raven laughs. "Clarke, are you gonna switch out your wheels? Get your board." Clarke looks to Raven. The darker girl has oil smudged across her forehead, her brace is off and adjacent to a toolbox. Clarke stands and retrieves her board along with the new set of wheels. She opts to sit with her friends in the garage, watching how pissed Octavia gets when their resident mechanic bosses her around. "Alright Griffin, these wheels are going to change your life." Raven smirks, tossing a wheel to Clarke.

Clarke sits on the cement floor, stretching her legs in front of her, the board resting on her tanned thighs. "What'd be life changing is if the damn city'd start filling in these pot holes, then I wouldn't have to replace my wheel every few weeks." She starts unscrewing the nuts and bolts, careful to keep track of each piece.

"Yeah, that'll happen," Octavia comments, "Ow! Son of bitch, how the hell is this bike ever going to run?!" She's rubbing her thumb, the skin around her finger nail red from getting pinched between metal.

Scooting on her butt, Raven eyes the cylinder heads. She takes only a few seconds to insert the spark plugs correctly, attaching the wires with delicate fingers. "There."

Octavia groans, not wanting to acknowledge that yet again, Raven's mechanic skills have surpassed hers. Which, truthfully, are almost non-existent. She grumbles a thanks before mounting her bike, resting comfortably on the cracked leather seat. She nudges Raven with the tip of her boot, flashing her a wink and nodding in Clarke's direction. "So, Clarke. Bookstore girl. What's your game plan?"

Raven catches on quickly, wriggling her eyebrows. "Yeah, Griffin. Are you gonna woo her with more of your Clarkipedia knowledge or just straight up ignore the heart eyes she was giving you?"

"She was not giving me heart eyes," Clarke sighs. She knows if anything it was the other way around, but that ended with Clarke making a complete ass of herself. Still, the girl was cute. She was polite and soft spoken. Other than that, Clarke obviously didn't know anything about her.

Before Clarke could defend herself further, the sound of wheels spinning on the pavement catches their attention. A second later, Bellamy Blake swerves around the street corner, joking loudly with the gang of guys behind him. As he gets closer, he crouches low to the pavement, his board flying fast. He maneuvers his board up and over the curb edge, spinning it quickly before landing with a loud crack. His friends cheer him on, a cocky smirk gracing his freckled features. Raven and Octavia roll their eyes collectively, but Clarke just laughs. "Nice entrance, Bellamy."

He swings his board sharply, coming to a complete stop just feet away from the girls. He slouches to the ground, sitting on his board and breathing heavily. "Yeah, yeah. What are you guys up to?" He asks shortly before being joined by his friends. Monty, Jasper, and Murphy don't bother attempting to show off with some trick, but slowly near the garage before joining Bellamy on the ground. Sweat beads down their foreheads and necks, pooling under their arms and down their backs. Clarke can smell them from here. She scrunches her nose momentarily. Boy sweat is so much grosser than girl sweat, she thinks.

"Fixed the spark plugs on my bike," Octavia grins from atop her motorcycle. This only gets a disapproving look from her older brother. "What now?"

Bellamy points at the bike, his eyes wide with concern. "That thing is a death trap, O. It's older than both of us combined. Probably not even street legal anymore."

Raising her brow, Raven is quick to defend her friend. "Uhm, how many bones have you broken at the dropship?" Bellamy falls silent, his lack of a remark answering her question. "That's what I thought," Raven smiles, reaching to reattach her brace. She stands, choosing to join Octavia on the bike. She eyes Bellamy with a sly, sexy grin, "Besides, look how hot we're going to be riding this around."

"Gross," Bellamy scoffs. Murphy whistles at them, but only receives a death glare from the girls. Clarke laughs again.

Clarke notices Monty has the same wheels as her, "Hey, are those pretty good? I just changed mine."

He spins the wheel with a flick of his finger, nodding as it whirls around. "Yeah, I think so. They kind of glide."

They spend another moment talking about board parts when a loud laugh from Murphy distracts her. "What's so funny?" She asks.

"You," Murphy answers, a smirk painting his lips. "Octavia told us about you and that bookstore girl-"

"Octavia!"

Octavia bites her lip, "It was funny, Clarke. You practically tripped over yourself trying to scramble out of there."

Sighing loudly, Clarke flips her board over on the concrete. "Well I'm gonna exit on the bag on Clarke sesh and try these wheels—"

"Oh, come on. Don't be such a baby," Raven calls after her as she skates down the driveway. She isn't planning on going anywhere, and she just skates to the end of the street before attempting to ollie over someone's garden gnome. She lands the trick, her board bowing beneath her feet. She turns to skate back when Bellamy comes to her side. "Hey, Bell."

He punches her lightly in the arm a couple times, "Hey, don't let 'em get to you."

She smiles, and shoves his hands away. "I'm not. But, they've been on my case all day, keep telling me I should ask her out."

"Why don't you?"

Clarke wriggles back and forth on her board. She turns her cap forwards to block out the afternoon sun that peeks through the clouds. She scrunches her nose, "'Cause she'd probably say no. Or be straight. I don't know which is more humiliating."

He gives Clarke a doubtful look, raising his brow. "Or maybe you're still hung up on Finn?"

"I ended things with him!" Clarke defends. She goes to skate back to the house but Bellamy grabs her shirt, wheeling her back to him. She groans, and rubs her eyes with her palm. "What if I'm not ready?"

She feels a tight squeeze on her shoulder, and he gets close to her ear. "No time like the present to find out," and with that he pushes her forward, her board floating effortlessly over the warm pavement. He catches up to her, holding onto the tails of her flannel. She catches the hint and her foot hits the ground hard to compensate for the added weight. They're skating back slowly, when Bellamy speaks again lowly as he tags behind. "Dude, Finn's an asshat. He didn't deserve you. Maybe O and Raven are bagging on you because we all know you deserve better."

She turns back to see him squinting in the sunlight, his fists knotted in her shirt. "He just didn't get it, did he?"

"Nah, he's a suit. What'd you expect?" Bellamy retorts.

She knows he's right. Finn wasn't from her normal crowd, that in and of itself should have warned her against dating him. He was a business major. The kind that required suits and jackets during lectures and meetings with small groups on weekends to discuss mergers and acquisitions. He came from a corporate family, bound to follow in his father's footsteps of airline upper management. But, when he was with her, he was different. For a while, anyway.

Clarke first became interested in Finn when she agreed to tutor him. He was taking an art history course per university requirements and was unabashedly horrible at it. He hounded Clarke for two weeks straight, flirting and complimenting her incredible ability to memorize artists of the 17th century until she conceded to tutor him. She liked him because he was a good guy, despite his corporate surroundings, which Clarke never really understood. Finn was a good guy.

Then, Finn starting interning with his father's company. He wore suits everyday, and attended real business meetings. With that, came company parties, and while Clarke and his father were amicable, the rest of his coworkers couldn't grasp why a smart, successful boy like Finn dated an artsy wanderlust like Clarke. He bought her fancy dresses and jewelry for the occasions, always quickly reminding her to "be on your best behavior" when they slid out of the limousine car. She let it slide the first few times, but snapped one holiday party leading to the first of many fights.

After the New Year, he worked more and spent less time with Clarke. She was never the needy type, so she tried to not let it bother her. But, he started bothering her when they would go out on a date and he talked about Clarke's future. He explained the several positions he could get Clarke within his father's company at the snap of his finger. Finn became desperate to make Clarke apart of his corporate lifestyle, dragging her rich boutiques to trade her shredded jean shorts for khaki tennis skirts, that way, she would look the part of his country club ideals.

Often she wondered why she put up with it. His lifestyle was not hers, but they remained together for several months. While wracking her brain, Clarke would realize the reason. The small moments. The limited occasions when Finn would be her Finn. The guy who kissed her shoulders while they watched the stars from her rooftop. Sometimes, he was the guy who binge-watched Netflix with her, laughing until there were tears coming down their faces. Finn would make up for his blunders with a romantic gesture, whether it be a picnic in the park or taking her for a tour of the art museum. It was the Finn that volunteered at the local elementary school and gave canned foods to the needy that Clarke fell for. But then, he stopped being that guy.

Their breakup was loud and messy. They both cried, and when Clarke showed no signs of remorse for her decision, Finn got angry. He grew mean, and spewed hateful things at her. When she left his apartment, she was heartbroken. For weeks, her friends had to remind her that she did the right thing. Her mother, on the other hand, loved the upstanding guy her daughter was dating and spoke snide remarks about Clarke being too immature for a real relationship. Clarke hated it. Eventually, Clarke put herself back together, but had been more than reluctant to even think of pursuing after another relationship or romantic interest.

Rolling back to the garage, their friends stand in a half circle talking among themselves. Noticing their reappearance, Raven calls out mid laughter, "Hey, we're heading to the dropship. Big Talk Murphy says he perfected his 360 hardflip."

"I did perfect it!" Murphy spits, his brow hard.

Clarke smirks, "Why can't you do it in the driveway, Big Talk?"

Jasper chuckles, and punches Murphy in the arm. "Because he wants to show off." Monty joins the laughter and agrees. The guys start skating down the road, and Raven leans over to tighten the straps on her brace. Octavia retrieves her longboard from the back of the garage before closing it and punching in the lock code. The girls turn to them, waiting for them to join.

Bellamy nods, and pats Clarke on the back. She shrugs her shoulders, grinning, "I think I've got a book to buy."

Octavia hoots loudly, throwing her fist into the air. "Yes! That's our babe!"

"Hey, Clarke, if you're gonna bang her in the bookstore, make sure you use protection," Raven says with a coy wink only to receive a narrowed expression from the blonde. The two giggling girls start off, weaving back and forth and calling for Bellamy to follow.

He hollers at them before turning to Clarke for a moment. "Come to the dropship after, yeah?"

Clarke agrees and sends him off chasing after his sister and friends. Clarke sighs deeply, knowing that she's gotta be better than Big Talk Murphy and actually follow through with her plans. She hesitates for a moment before turning on her back wheels and pumping her leg in the opposite direction. She hopes she can get her shit together before she reaches Polis.

\---------

Her lungs are burning and her heart pounds in her chest. She's not entirely sure it's just from skating. A small tremor vibrates through the tips of her fingers as she reaches for the door handle, a tinkling bell marking her entrance. She swallows hard, her wondering eyes scanning the room for the girl. Nothing. She hesitates, listening. It's quiet. "Hello?"

Nothing, again. She wonders if Lexa isn't here, but assumes the brunette would be responsible enough to lock the door and turn off the lights if she left for the evening. She props her board near stack of biographies by the door, lightly stepping into the store, eyes wide. It's so quiet, she hears her raspy breaths practically echo off the walls. She steps between the shelves of local authors and featured fiction, moving toward the spiral staircase. She remembers Lexa mentioning how she was starting from the top and working her way down. She ascends the stairs, the metal creaking beneath her Vans as she tries to maintain the stillness of Polis. There's an aura of peace the store emits, an essence that has a calming effect on Clarke. Her heart rate begins to slow as she steps closer to the top, her muscles relaxing. Polis feels like home.

A lazily smile grows on her lips as she looks down each aisle, until she finds the brunette crouched low on the ground shelving books. Her smile stretches from ear to ear as she watches Lexa, the brunette completely unaware of her presence. Lexa's earphones emit a soft beat, her hands swiftly placing book after book. There's a book on the ground, some classic novel Clarke vaguely recalls reading in eighth grade. She nudges it with her foot, sending the hardback into Lexa's Converse.

Startled, Lexa jumps. Or, falls rather. Her butt lands with a loud thump, and her hands smack the ground next to her. Her eyes are wide and worried, her sharp inhale pierces the air. "Clarke?" She says, exasperated.

Her stomach sinks, "I'm so sorry. I was only try to scare you a little bit. I called downstairs but you didn't answer-" Lexa ducks her head, her hair forming a curtain around her face, and Clarke swears she hears a small sniffle. "No, no, please don't cry," Clarke panics, dodging to the ground to next to her.

She's surprised when Lexa's lifts her head, that she's smirking. "Can't believe you fell for that."

"Oh, my god! I thought I-" Clarke breathes out, crossing her arms.

Lexa interrupts her, shrugging her shoulders "You're lucky I don't have a heart condition."

They share a look before Clarke breaks into a soft, awkward laugh. The skater extends her hand to Lexa, helping her off the ground. Lexa accepts, her green eyes never leaving Clarke's. They're silent for a moment, before Lexa clears her throat and shoves her hands in her pockets. "Still don't have the book."

Clarke shuffles on her feet, nodding her head. "Yeah, no. I figured you didn't."

"Right," Lexa states, tucking her curly hair behind her ear. She bites her lip, and Clarke finds it incredibly adorable. She moves a hand, balancing it on the bookshelf, peering at Clarke, waiting.

"Uhm, I-I well I was on my way to the dropship-"

"The dropship?"

"The skate park?" Clarke questions with a raised brow. Lexa just stares blankly. "You're not from here, are you?"

Shaking her head, Lexa speaks gently. "No, moved here two weeks ago."

Her face is hardly readable, and Clarke wonders if she's being a bother. She's uncertain of Lexa. One moment the girl smirks with a light laugh, and the next moment she's stoic, with a sharpness about her that intimidates the normally overly confident Clarke Griffin. Her instincts tell her to ask Lexa where she's from, to prod and poke until she knows every detail about her. Hell, that's what she does to everybody. But another part of her, tells her Lexa won't easily answer her inquiries. "The dropship is a local skate park, a few blocks from here. I was on my way to watch one of my stupid friends do this complicated trick," Clarke explains. Lexa listens intently, her head tilted slightly. Still, her lack of emotion makes Clarke feel dumb. "Anyway, Polis is on the way so I just thought I'd stop by."

"For?"

Clarke's stomach clenches. She inhales deeply and answers honestly despite every bell and whistle in her head going off. "To see you." And those are the words it takes to make a blush creep onto Lexa's cheeks. I'm in, Clarke thinks. She mentally high fives herself before continuing, "I mean, I liked meeting you yesterday." Turning to hide her smile, Lexa bites her bottom lip. Clarke's former awkwardness transitions into a cheekiness she can't help but perpetuate. "This is my favorite store in town, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

"It seems we are," Lexa answers, Clarke detecting the smallest hint of playfulness in her tone.

Leaning back on the heels of her Vans, Clarke sighs. "Well, I gotta go watch a guy bust his ass. I'll see you around, cute bookstore girl." She turns to walk away, proud to once again lay on that Griffin charm.

She's at the staircase when she hears Lexa call out clearly, "You can just call me Lexa."

Clarke smirks, speaking over her shoulder, "Yeah, but that's not as fun." Lexa doesn't reply, but her laugh, light as a bell, is enough to satisfy the blonde skater. She makes a cool but swift exit from the store, her confidence in the clouds.

\---------

The evening air is warm, but not sweltering. The breeze her ride provides is enough to keep the sweat from her skin. Her grey flannel flutters behind her, blonde wisps of hair lick at her neck and cheeks as she weaves through the city streets. A few minutes later, she hears collective yelling and hollering as she nears the dropship.

Clarke skates closer, a natural smile forms on her lips. The dropship is raucous with youths, their energy palpable from the street. The dropship is fairly simple in design, but by far the best skate park in the city. It has bowls and ramps, handrails and pipes. The outer space themed graffiti contributed to the name in addition with the long time tradition of first timers dropping into the bowl. The dropship became one of the many places Clarke considered home in addition to Polis and the University campus. The dropship had her friends and good vibes, that's really all she needed.

Clarke sailed to the edge of the bowl, stopping short of dropping in to perch herself next to Bellamy and Raven. "Hey, guys."

"Oh, hey, sexy lady. Did you get it in?" Raven asks, wriggling her eyebrows. Clarke shoots her a glare, her mouth forming a tight line.

Bellamy laughs heartily, "Yeah, Griffin. How'd it go?"

Sighing, Clarke answers. "I saw her, laid on some of that Griffin charm-"

"And scored a date?" Bellamy finishes.

"Eh, not quite. But, I will."

Raven groans in frustration and Bellamy just smiles, proud that Clarke was even able to show her face in Polis again. They chat among themselves, when Clarke remembers something. "Hey, did Murphy land the trick?"

In an instant, Octavia whirls behind her, tackling her almost into the bowl. She hangs on Clarke, "Dude, you almost missed it. He's gonna do it right now." She points and their attention turns to Monty, Jasper, and Murphy, the group of guys standing in a half circle. Jasper hits Murphy in the arm and he shoves him off.

Monty shouts to the onlookers, declaring Murphy's attempt. "Without further ado, our very own Big Talk Murphy attempting his first 360 hardflip."

Their friends hoot and holler, cheering on their friend. Murphy trails to the ends of the park, opting for an empty flat space to perform his stunt. Clarke looks on in anticipation. The 360 hardflip is one of the more complicated tricks a skater could stick. It's a mixture of kicking up your board to spin in the air while you jump and then land on top. Not an easy task. In fact, the only person Clarke had ever seen successfully land a 360 hardflip was Bellamy.

Murphy pumps his leg on the cement, building just the right amount of momentum before he crouches, then twists low to the ground. He uses one foot to kick up his board. The board spins quickly under his body, his legs and feet hanging mid-air. Shit, he might actually land it, Clarke thinks. But, before she can cheer his landing, Murphy's feet come down crooked. His board flies one way and he crumbles to the ground, his body landing with a hard thud. He shouts in pain, his board shooting across the ground and into the bowl way below Clarke's feet. They all look on in horror.

Murphy grabs his shin, wincing and rolling back and forth. Clarke is quick to jump to his side, expecting to see bone piercing through denim. The others gather around quickly, barraging him with questions to see if he's okay. He throws a few curse words while Clarke inspects his leg. She doesn't feel a break, but his leg is starting to swell. "It's at least a sprain," she observes, biting her lip.

"Of course it is," he spits.

"Come on, buddy," Bellamy says, helping Murphy to his feet. Monty goes on his other side, the two boys help Murphy limp away. Jasper jumps into the bowl to retrieve Murphy's board before following his friends. Knowing a visit to the emergency room is inevitable, Clarke nods in their direction, "Mom's gonna love this."

Octavia scrunches her nose, mentally preparing for one of Dr. Griffin's infamous lectures about the dangers of skating. Not to mention they weren't wearing helmets. Octavia groans. "Can't we go to a different hospital?"

"No way. Doc Griff in scrubs? I love a lady in uniform," Raven argues, laughing and getting an angry glare from Clarke. "Whoa, just kidding!"

Clarke just shakes her head, and gestures to the boys. "Come on, O. Hot pants can stay behind." The two skate off after their friends laughing, Raven chasing behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang have a run in with a cop, and Clarke attempts to make her intentions with Lexa clear.

Clarke watches Bellamy grind off some railing, cheering him on. It was clear that Bellamy was by far the best skater in their group. Clarke mostly skated for fun and transportation. Octavia wasn’t so keen on tricks, but could hold her own in the bowl. And Raven, well after her accident, she kept mostly just to cruising. But Bellamy, he had talent. Clarke would beg him to go pro. He’d been in a few competitions and always done well, often scoring first. But he was so hesitant about “selling out”. Instead, he hung around with his kid sister and her friends when he wasn’t working his ass off as a security guard for the Smithsonian.

Bellamy’s board lands with a loud crack. Sharper than usual. Clarke recognizes that sound. Her teeth grit and muscles tense. His ass is on the cement, rubbing his thigh and cursing. She shakes her head when he removes the board in two mangled pieces from under his bottom. The girls aren’t surprised, but sympathetic. His sister helps him from the ground, and Raven takes half the board from him, inspecting the splintered edges. Before Clarke can console yet another broken board, they hear the tell-tale whoop of a police siren. The blonde whirls around, searching for a cop car. Instead she sees a motorcycle slow to their circle, the helmeted cop hopping off with ease. Raven groans.

“Well, well, I was about to give you the good old there’s no skating on public property speech, but it seems a broken board is punishment enough,” Officer Indra chides, taking off her helmet and wedging it under her arm. She wipes sweat from her brow, and nods to Bellamy. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He replies, clearly irritated.

Officer Indra turns to Clarke, and points to the sign a few feet away that has a huge X across a skateboard. “Are you trying to get a ticket?”

“I thought you said no speech?” Raven says, popping her bubble gum with crossed arms.

The policewoman narrows her eyes, “I lied.”

Clarke steps in front of Raven, shooting her a glare. “Sorry, we were just riding through. On our way to the dropship.”

Octavia calls out from behind them, her hand on the handle of the officer’s bike. “Did you get a new ride?” She asks excitedly.

Officer Indra nods, a small smile gracing her sharp features. She moves to the bike, pointing out various buttons and electronics of the motorcycle. Indra had known them since they were in middle school. Clarke was the first to meet her when she got pulled over for jaywalking. She managed to get a warning, but wasn’t so lucky the next time she was cited for possession of alcohol underage in grade nine. Since then, Indra had always been there to warn them of their minor wrongdoings. Only if it was serious business, like the time they threw that party in an abandoned building, would she actually cite them. She was older, but cool. Clarke respected her authority, but was grateful for all the second and third chances she’d been so charitable with.

Officer Indra treated them with respect also, that’s why Clarke liked her so much. Indra didn’t see them as savage children looking to bring out anarchy to the city, but as young adults just living. She often reminded them that as long as they refrain from drugs and serious felonies, she’d always be there to keep an eye out for them.

Clarke also appreciated the soft spot Indra held for the Blake siblings, especially Octavia. Their community was well aware of the Blake siblings struggles to survive on their own. It had happened a number of years ago when Octavia was still in middle school. Their father had never been in the picture, but their mother was suddenly killed during a mugging. Bellamy had just turned 17, and fought for custody of his baby sister. He dropped out of high school, opting to get his GED so he could get a job to support himself and Octavia. For a while, he and Octavia lived in the Griffin’s guesthouse rent free. The whole community was supportive of Bellamy’s efforts, including the officer. Indra was in court to vouch for him along with Clarke’s mother and several other adults. Since there, Indra had taken their neighborhood under her patrol, often taking special consideration to keep a close eye on the Blake siblings. Indra was stoic about her role in the Blake siblings past, but Clarke could tell she really cared about them.

Scribbling on a piece of paper, Indra spoke to Octavia. “His name is Gustus. He runs the shop a few blocks over, Grounder Mechanic. You’ve seen it?” Octavia nods. “Tell him Indra sent you, he’ll give you a great discount on a refurbished engine.”

Octavia takes the paper, her smile stretches ear to ear. She thanks the officer and steps forward to hug the woman. Indra stiffens, and holds out her hand quickly. Octavia accepts, thanking her again. The officer bids them goodbye, reminds them to stay out of trouble, and rides off with a loud roar of her motorcycle.

“Guys, my dream is slowing coming together,” Octavia beams.

Raven’s brow is knit, “Grounder Mechanic? They’ll probably charge you out the ass to install it. I’ll do it obviously.”

“You want it done professionally, right O?” Bellamy jokes, receiving a wicked glare from Raven. “Kidding!” He laughs. “I have some time after work tomorrow, we’ll hitch your bike to the truck and take it down.”

Octavia’s jaw dropped, as did Raven’s and Clarke’s. It was the first time Bellamy had ever given any slight approval of the motorcycle. “Bell, really?”

“If you’re gonna be on that thing, I’d rather it have a properly functioning engine,” he clarifies, a small smile gracing his lips. Octavia doesn’t waste a minute, jumping to hug him and thanking him more than she thanked Indra. The siblings laugh and head to the drop ship, Bellamy’s arm around Octavia’s shoulders, and her arm around his waist. Clarke and Raven follow them, Raven rolling her eyes and spatting along the way how she’d make sure the Grounder mechanics knew what they were doing. Clarke could only laugh and humor her friend. 

* * *

 

A few hours after Clarke had socialized with her friends at the dropship, Raven convinced her once again to visit _Polis._ “I’ll be by tomorrow for the details,” Raven said, poking a finger into Clarke’s chest.

Lungs burning for breath, Clarke enters the shop. It was getting late, but the door was unlocked, so it made her hopeful. The bell at the top of the door chimes, and a voice calls from the back. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night, we open tomorrow at…” Lexa’s voice drifts off as she spots the skater in the doorway.

“At nine AM,” Clarke finishes, closing the door behind her with a smirk.

“That’s… right,” Lexa adds, pressing her lips together in a way that made Clarke’s knees weak. She holds a book in her hand.

“That my Verne?”

Lexa glances at the cover before setting it on the counter. She shakes her head, “He’s still a no show. Not very dependable, is he?”

Moving closer, setting her backpack and board near the door, Clarke lets out a soft laugh. “No, he’s not. Might have to find a new author. Any recommendations?” 

The brunette leans on the counter, her lips purse together, the cogs in her mind turning. She licks her lips, thinking. Clarke can’t help but notice and appreciate how full they are. She copies Lexa’s position, her hip resting against the old wooden checkout counter. Her finger tips drum lightly on the countertop, waiting for an answer.

“Have you ever read H.G. Wells?” Lexa finally asks, forcing Clarke to refocus her attention to Lexa’s face and not just her lips. She shakes her head. “ _The Island of Dr. Moreau_ is really excellent.”

“Is it in stock or do you just have the uh,” Clarke reaches for the book Lexa had set on the counter. She laughs. “ _The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh_?”

Lexa’s expressions flattens momentarily before she laughs. “I was working on the children’s section.”

“You don’t have to defend your favorites to me,” Clarke offers, her shoulders shrugging. Lexa rolls her eyes playfully, then gestures Clarke to follow her. They work their way up the spiral staircase back into the corner of the second floor where the sci-fi section lives. It takes Lexa less than ten seconds to hand the book to Clarke.

She thumbs through it, her eyes pouring over the cover and back. She nods her head in approval. “Hopefully H.G. will deliver.”

“You can count on it.”

“You’re confident,” Clarke challenges, brow raised.

The corner of Lexa’s mouth curls. Her hand is on her hip, and she tilts her head in adorably attractive manner. “It’s my job. I work in a bookstore,” she reminds bluntly.

“Was being beautiful apart of the requirements?”

Clarke’s words make Lexa first blush, then laugh heartily. Clarke laughs, too, knowing fully how cheesy the line was. But, she hopes she’s being clear with Lexa. She is flirting. Or trying to.

“Really, Clarke?” Lexa asks through giggles. The sound is soft, like bells in the wind. Her grin bears her teeth, her perfect straight teeth, sharp and enticing. Clarke can’t stop staring at her mouth.

“Yes, really,” Clarke says, laughing, too. Not at her own poor pickup line, but rather because Lexa’s smile and laughter spreads through her like a graceful fire, igniting a response she can’t control. It catches her. Lexa’s everything just catches her. “I’m attempting to flirt.”

The word breaks Lexa’s grin, her lips softening into a small O. Her eyes dart to the bookshelves, then back to Clarke. She tucks a curl behind her ear. “Key word being _attempt_ ,” she teases.

Clarke smirks, leaning forward and speaking lowly. “Is it working?”

She’s surprised when Lexa leans forward also, only inches from her face. The girl’s expression is serious, the playfulness erased from her cheeks and lips. Her eyes are kind and searching. Her voice is quiet when she says, “Maybe.” Clarke thinks they’re going to kiss when Lexa snatches the book from her hands. She flashes a sly smile, and the lightness is back in her olive eyes.

“Come on,” she waves, “I’ll check you out.”

Clarke is cheeky when she quickly responds, “My abs or my ass?” She follows Lexa’s down the stairs, once more appreciating the view.

“Your book,” Lexa says, waving the novel in the air as a reminder.

“Maybe another time then,” Clarke meets her at the counter as Lexa’s scans and rings up the charge.

Lexa ignores her comment, but smiles. “I hope you enjoy the book.” She goes to give it to Clarke, their fingers brush against each other. It’s Clarke’s turn to blush, as she stuffs the book into her backpack.

“I’m sure I will.” They exchange their goodbyes, and Clarke leaves the store. As she skates home, the image of Lexa’s lips and eyes replay in her mind as does the sound of her laughter. Clarke tries to think of something else, anything else besides Lexa, but as it seems the cute bookstore girl has made an impression that the skater just can’t shake.

When she gets home, she texts Raven.

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: so did u ask her out???_

 **Clarkie-G** _: No! I like turn into this complete idiot when im around her_

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: duh, i coulda told u that_

 **Clarkie-G** _: -__-_

 **Clarkie-G** _: she did recommend me a book_

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: unless its 101 sex positions, then its gettin u no where_

 **Clarkie-G** _: ur so crude_

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: dont be such a loser, ask her out so ur mom & me can plan our weddings_

 **Clarkie-G** _: you are the worst, why am I friends w you?!?_

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: don’t talk to ur future mother like that! UR GROUNDED!_

 **Clarkie-G** _: STOP IT!!!!!_

 **Rave Muh Fave** _: NEVER! Bahahaha!!!_

****


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven being a little shit.

She wakes with the sound of raucous laughter and clanging dishes piercing the morning air. Clarke rubs her sleepy eyes, and rises from her bed to slip into a silk knee-length robe. She yawns as she pads downstairs. It’s early, she knows that. The morning sun pours through the windows, and Clarke tightens the silk across her chest. She follows the noise to the kitchen, her lips curling into a smile when she sees where the ruckus was coming from.

Bellamy, Raven, and Octavia sit at her kitchen counter, stuffing their faces with eggs and bacon. She greets them, sliding next to Bellamy who throws a strong arm around her shoulders. Her mom is at the stove, poking at an over medium egg with a spatula. “Mom, you just getting home?”

“Yeah. I came home to these three on my doorstep,” Abby comments, a hand resting on her hip. She exhausted. Working 14 hours straight isn’t as easy as it was when she was fresh out of med school, but it’s the part of the job. She had intended on making herself a quick meal, but the moment she started frying up the bacon, it was hard to ignore the drooling of her daughter’s friends.  

Clarke turns to Bellamy, stealing a half of piece of bacon from his plate. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Just long enough for breakfast,” Raven answers with a mouth full of toast.

Bellamy holds a piece of buttered toast to Clarke’s lips and she takes a generous bite. Octavia refills their glasses with orange juice, retrieving an extra glass from the cupboard for Clarke. Mornings like this remind Clarke of when the Blake siblings lived with them.

They only lived in the Griffins’ guesthouse for just under two years, leaving after Bellamy turned 19 and was financially able to rent an apartment on his own. Abby had been more than generous to let them live there, but then again, she was hardly around back then to care. But, in rare mornings, before school or sometimes on weekends, Abby would take a moment from her hectic schedule of clinical trials or surgeries to make them a meal. Jake, her father, used to do it all the time for Clarke and her friends, and though Abby’s cooking skills were limited, she tried. Despite Clarke’s and Abby’s obviously strained relationship, the blonde _could_ appreciate moments like this based solely on their rarity and attempt. So, Clarke would reel in her horns and simply enjoy the food with her friends.

Abby sets a fresh plate in front of Clarke, opting to stand at the counter to enjoy her own. She pauses, waiting for Clarke to take the first bite. She does and it is good. Clarke grumbles the compliment through a mouth of full of eggs, and with that approval, her mother begins to eat as well. They chitchat about random things, eventually leading to Octavia excitedly talking about her motorcycle.

Clarke quirks her brow, knowing what’s coming. Bellamy bites back a laugh when Abby sighs loudly. “Octavia, this whole motorcycle thing. You know I see kids come in all the time after accidents-“

“I have a helmet, I’m going to get a leather jacket,” Octavia reassures, finishing off her juice.

Abby rubs her brow, sleep deprivation in her eyes and an exasperated expression on her face. She groans lowly, “God, you guys are trying to put me in an early grave.”

“Nah, then who would make us breakfast?” Raven chides, smiling. “Besides, the bike won’t be ready for at least another few weeks.”

Octavia shakes her head, “The mechanic said he would having it running in a week.”

Knitting her brow, Raven scoffs. “Please, he probably doesn’t know a socket wrench from a screwdriver.” Bellamy and Clarke giggle at Raven’s defensiveness. Even Abby smirks at the bruised ego of the resident mechanic.

“ _Lincoln_ seems like he knows plenty,” Octavia defends. “Besides, he’s hot. He can take as long as he wants with my bike.”

“Not if I’m paying for it,” her brother adds, nudging her shoulder with a grin.

She sticks out her tongue, “I said I’d pay you back, Bell.” He only nods, finishing his third egg as Abby serves him another.

The doctor places her dishes in the sink, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.  She sighs once more, balancing both hands on the cool marble counter. “Clarke, I’m leaving this morning for New York-“

“I thought you weren’t leaving until Friday?”

“There’s been a slight change in plans. We’re leaving today. He wants to take me sight-seeing, I suppose,” She trails off.  Abby had been seeing Kane for a few months now. He was a prominent local politician running for state representative in the next coming election. Clarke hated politics, a product of living in the political capital of the entire country for all her life.

Clarke had met him on several occasions. It was usually awkward, the conversation forced and short. If her mother spent half her time at the hospital, she spent another quarter with Kane. But, Clarke didn’t care. It kept her out of her hair. Or that’s what she often reminded herself.  

Abby clears her throat, redirecting the conversation. “Raven, could you do me a favor while I’m gone?”

Raven perked up, finally separating herself from the love affair she was having with her food. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“My car needs an oil change. I’ll pay you, obviously,” Abby says. She tells Raven she’ll leave her the keys and cash before she heads out. Her phone rings suddenly and Clarke can tell Kane is on the other line. Abby excuses herself, answering the phone in the hall.

Clarke spins on her barstool to Raven at the other end. “You didn’t have to agree to that.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Clarke. Relax a little,” Bellamy says, squeezing her shoulder.

Octavia’s voice is low and whispering, just in case Abby can hear, when she comments, “Yeah, your mom is basically giving us booze money for the weekend while she’s gone. It’s too easy.”

“Nah, tell her she can pay me in sexual favors instead,” Raven laughs, her eyes watering at Clarke’s spiteful expression. Clarke flicks the edges of her toast at the brunette.

“Tell her yourself,” Octavia giggles. Before Raven can ask, they spot Abby in the doorway. Her mouth in pressed into a thin line and her cheeks flushed. She has keys in one hand and cash in the other. It takes every single ounce of control not to let out a barking laugh. Clarke is both slightly embarrassed, but mostly tickled pink with laughter. Her stomach aches at her attempts to stifle the laughter, and from the pained, grinning faces of the Blake siblings, she knows they’re feeling the same way.

Dead silent, Raven’s tanned skin turns a deep shade of red. The room is almost silent, save for the stifled giggles of her three friends. The brunette is so mortified she can’t look anywhere but at the crumbs on her plate. Her hands are in tight fists on the table, and she very audibly swallows. Clarke thinks it’s hilarious.

Abby steps forward, her mouth opening and closing a few times, trying to find words for the young skater. She shakes her head lightly, and pushes the keys and money toward Raven. She taps her fingers on the two twenty dollar bills, and says in a clear, low tone. “I think the money will have to do.”

They lose it. Bellamy, Octavia, and Clarke let out cackles, while Raven sits silent and still. Abby gives Clarke a quick kiss goodbye, reminding them to be on their best behavior before she exits swiftly.

After the laughter dies down, Clarke has to wipe tears from her cheeks. She hasn’t laughed that hard in a while. “Oh, Raven, you so fucking deserved that.” The Blakes nod in agreement, and Raven continues to sit stoically. “Rave?”

She inhales sharply, before letting it out slowly. She looks like she’s either about to pass out or throw up. Her voice is strong though when she replies, “Do you think I ruined my chances?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be mostly Clarke & Lexa. Promise :)  
> Just wanted to post this funny little scene.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally makes a proposal after a good long pestering from her friends

The air is thick and humid. It either makes Clarke’s wavy golden tresses stick to her neck or puff out in all directions. She stands in front of the drug store window, battling to tame her locks but it’s of no avail. She finally gives up and makes it into a sloppy French braid. She removes her denim shirt and ties it around her waist. It’s only a second before Octavia makes fun of her.

“When are you going to learn that that whole kindergarten aesthetic is so fifteen years ago?” She tugs on Clarke’s shirt, giggling.

“When are you going to learn that that hat needs to be destroyed?” Clarke takes the tip of her finger and flips the cap backwards off Octavia’s head.

Octavia scoffs, deeply offended, and snatches it from the ground. “Hey! This is a 1999 Championship Arkers cap. People would pay good money for this cap!” The Arkers were the mascots of their school, Ark University. Clarke always thought their school was incredibly unimaginative with their sailor-themed mascot, but Octavia loved them anyway.

“First, they haven’t won a championship _since_ 1999\. Second, no one would pay shit for that hat because it’s got your gross sweat stains all over it.”

Octavia narrows her eyes, “Harry Thompson, the leading scorer from 1998 to 2000 and now the point guard for a little team called the San Antonio Spurs, _gave_ me this hat right off his head, His blood, sweat, and tears are in this hat, and I-“

“Okay, that’s just gross,” Raven says, exiting the drug store. She hands each of them a cold Coca Cola bottle. “Mexican Coke, as ordered. Now, can you two stop arguing over Octavia’s disgusting cap and start helping me plan our shindig for this weekend? Time is of the essence.”

Octavia drinks her coke, mumbling something about the Arkers being the best sports team in the southeast and turns her cap backwards. Clarke chugs half her Coke right there, the warm sticky liquid soothing her dry throat. “God, this is the best.”

“So lucky I found the only place in D.C. that sells it. You’re welcome,” Raven comments, tipping the bottle to her lips. “Okay, so, we don’t need to go over the invite list, the usual peeps, Bellamy, Monty-“

“Actually,” Octavia interrupts, “I was kind of thinking of inviting someone.”

“Who?” Clarke and Raven ask together.

“Lincoln.” Octavia states, almost shyly, as she sips her bottle.

Raven rolls her eyes when she asks, “That amateur mechanic from Grounders?” Octavia responds with a slap to the girl’s bare arm. “Ow! Okay, I kid. I kid.”

“He’s not an amateur. And he’s really nice, and smart, and-“

“And you’re totally head over heels?” Clarke teases, nudging the other girl’s hip with her own.

“Shut up,” Octavia blushes. “So, is that cool?”

Clarke sips her drink and shrugs, “Yeah, I don’t care.” Octavia thanks her and gets out her phone, quickly tapping on the screen, presumably shooting Lincoln a text.

Clarke glances from Octavia to Raven, the darker skinned girl smirking all the sudden. Clarke recognizes that smirk. _She’s up to something_ , Clarke thinks. “What?” she asks flatly.

“I know who else to invite,” she sing-songs. Clarke and Octavia exchange confused looks before Raven answers in a matter-of-fact tone, “Lexa.”

“No.” Clarke states automatically.

“What? Why!” Raven says, puzzled. Even Octavia is surprised with Clarke’s blunt response.

“Because,” Clarke whines, tipping back and forth on her heels. She grips her soda bottle tighter as the thought of Lexa in her house both excites and unnerves her. “Do you really think mine and Lexa’s first hang out should be at a camp out at my house drunk with a bunch of hammered girls and sloppy dudes?”

The other two glance at each other with crooked smiles and obvious looks, “Uh, yeah!”

Clarke shakes her head, and sticks her tongue out. “Not happening.” She hops on her longboard and starts down the street.

A moment later, Octavia and Raven are at her side, their legs pumping easily on the pavement. They weave together down the street through parked cars and few pedestrians. Clarke finishes her soda and tosses it in a trash can as she skates by. “She shoots, she scores! Hey, O, maybe I was on the 1999 Championship team!”

“Yeah, right!” Octavia laughs, throwing hers in behind. Raven is last, barely making the trashcan by a centimeter.

She rides to Clarke’s left, and pulls on her flowing shirt. “Griffin, seriously. Invite Lexa.”

“Yeah, Clarke. We won’t embarrass you. Rather, I won’t. Can’t guarantee smartass over here,” Octavia grins at Raven.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Raven deadpans. “Look, I’m just trying to get you laid. Excuse me for being a good friend!”

Clarke shoots her a dirty look, “Lexa’s not that type of girl.” Truly, she didn’t know what kind of girl Lexa was. Maybe she was that kind of girl. But, Clarke doubted it.

“How do you know?” Raven asks, wriggling her eyebrows.

“I don’t,” Clarke scoffs. “She’s just not… I’m sure.”

They turn the corner, and let the slight decline take them down the block. Clarke shoves her hands in her back pocket, thankful for the breeze that cools her face and neck. “She probably wouldn’t want to come.”

“Why don’t we find out? _Polis_ is right down the street.” Octavia observes, stretching her arms in the air.

It takes them a little over five minutes to get to _Polis,_ and the girls spent the entire ride over convincing Clarke to invite Lexa. They’re standing in front of the door, and they peek inside. They spot Lexa inside, behind the bestsellers shelf with a label maker. She spots them, smiles softly and waves before going back to price tagging the novels.

“Alright, Griffin. You’ve got this.” Raven says heartily, smacking Clarke’s butt for support.

Clarke bats her hand away, laughing momentarily before her smile flattens. She begins to make yet another excuse, but Octavia is quick to silence her. “Nuh uh. Grow a vagina and get your dorky ass in there.”

“O’s right,” Raven agrees.

“Fine, fine.” Clarke groans. “But, when she rejects me, I’ll be sending you two all summer to pick up my reserved books.” They mumble an agreement and practically shove her through the door.

“Clarke,” Lexa says, a playful hint in her tone. “Nice to see you.”

“Yeah, you, too.” Clarke says coolly. She brushes her bangs out of her face. “How-how are you?”

Even Clarke can recognize the nervousness in her voice as much as she’s trying to be chill about it. She knows Lexa sees it too by the smirk that paints the girl’s full lips.

“Just fine. Same old thing,” She gestures to the shelves in front of her. She begins to head to the back of the store, and calls back to Clarke. “Help me with some boxes, will you?”

“O-of course, yeah. Sure,” Clarke spits out rapidly, taking long strides to keep up. She hears Lexa chuckle. She curses in her head. She doesn’t understand how one moment she’s on top of the world, throwing down pickup lines and sassy remarks like it’s her profession and the next moment she’s a bumbling fool chasing after Lexa like a little lovesick puppy. _What the actual fuck, get it together Griffin,_ Clarke thinks.

In the back, Lexa pushes aside a couple stacks of books. There’s several medium sized boxes with the words “best sellers” penned on the sides. “These have to go up front so I can price them,” Lexa explains. Clarke nods in understanding and grabs a box hastily. The boxes appear manageable before she heaves one carelessly in her arms. The weight surprises her and she stumbles backward. As she reaches for anything to anchor her upright, Lexa grabs her arm in a feeble attempt to keep her from tumbling into the shelves.

The box of books lands with a loud thump and the novels skid across the old wooden floors. Clarke cries out in pain when she lands on her butt, but her shoulders protect her head from meeting the floor. She’s met with another wave of discomfort when the weight of a body falls ungracefully on top of her.

She wants to die. She wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She can’t believe this is actually happening to her.

Lexa is fumbling on top of Clarke. She lifts up her head and shoulders, their cheeks brushing as she does. “Are you okay?” She asks. Clarke lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding. Lexa’s hands are on either side of her head, their noses only inches apart.

“I’m mortified,” Clarke responds, swallowing thickly. “Are you okay?”

She’s surprised by Lexa’s laugh, light and forgiving. “I had someone break my fall, you on the other hand...” Clarke tenses under Lexa’s wandering gaze. Olive eyes widen as they scan the body underneath them, and wavy tresses fall from Lexa’s shoulder and tickle Clarke’s chest. “…You were not so lucky.”

“I don’t know, I feel pretty lucky,” Clarke says before she can stop herself. She’s grateful when Lexa smiles and chuckles in return. Lexa shifts on top of her, but doesn’t get up. It makes Clarke feel warm and fuzzy. She senses every inch of Lexa, where their Vans and Converse clunk together. How Lexa’s bare legs sort of stick to hers, but not in an uncomfortable manner. Their stomachs and breasts are pressed together, and if Clarke was bold, her hands could easily slide around Lexa’s waist. If it was anyone but the girl on top of her, Clarke knows she would have.

So when Lexa’s pupils grow, and her smile changes into an almost sultry grin, Clarke’s brain turns to mush. For the second time this week, it looks as if Lexa is going to kiss her. Lexa leans down on her hands, her face closer now. Clarke inhales deeply, her gaze never leaving the brunette’s. She swallows hard, her throat dry. Lexa leans further until their cheeks brush again and Clarke feels her warm breath in her ear when she whispers softly, “You’re not _that_ lucky,” Clarke can feel her smiling, “Not yet.”

The skater is met by a wave warmth that sinks down low in her stomach and she can’t help but let her fingertips just graze the sides of Lexa’s hips. Lexa pulls back and Clarke thinks she might have to courage to kiss her until she hears the clicking of a phone camera.

Clarke’s head whips sideways, trying to see where the sound came from, and by the giggles of Octavia and Raven, she’s right to be embarrassed. Lexa immediately pushes herself up, just her legs tangled between Clarke’s. Her hands are searching, gripping the sides of the blonde’s arm and a bookshelf or two in a feeble attempt to pull herself and Clarke from the ground. They fumble for another second, limbs twisting in attempt to find footing as they brace against each other to stand. Clarke balances herself, a bewildered expression still on her face. Lexa’s just as surprised, but better at containing it behind a coy smile and blushing cheeks.

“We fell,” Clarke explains.

“Somebody sure has,” Octavia mutters, biting her tongue while laughing.

Raven fingers slide across her phone, a shit-eating grin on her lips. Clarke knows she’ll have to steal Raven’s phone later and delete the pictures. _Or send them to myself,_ she briefly adds. Raven’s brow quirks, “Interesting way to send an invite, Griffin.”

“I hadn’t got that far,” Clarke admits, exchanging an apologizing expression with Lexa. The brunette only pushes her wild curls behind her ears, clearly unknowing.  

Octavia practically barks out another laugh, “Oh, I think you got plenty far.”

Her cheeks redden, and Clarke can’t wait until she can pummel Octavia and Raven’s asses for this kind of embarrassment. She turns to Lexa to once again give her another ‘I’m so sorry my friends are jackasses’ kind of look.

“Look, Lexa. Clarke’s having a camp out at her place this weekend. She wants you to come. There, that easy,” Raven says quickly.

“Raven!” Clarke groans.

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Clarke, Bell called. He was wondering what he and the boys should bring. They’re at the dropship,” she gestures to the door, signaling that the guys are waiting for them and it’s time to wrap this up. She starts for the exit, nudging Raven along. They wait at the door for Clarke, Raven’s eyebrow quirked and Octavia’s smile smug. They’re waiting and watching for Clarke to make her move.  

Once they’re semi-alone again, Clarke turns on her heels. “Sorry about that,” she begins, putting the spilled books back in the box. Lexa starts to help her, mumbling a small murmur of gratitude. “Uhm, but Raven’s right. That’s why I came here.”

“You mean you didn’t come here for Verne?” Lexa asks with a knowing grin.

Clarke chuckles, rolling her eyes. “What can I say? I came for the Verne but stayed for the girl.”

“Very smooth,” Lexa notes, “Smoother than your landing, at least.”

Thankful for the return to playful banter, Clarke sighs lightly, nodding her head in acknowledgment. “My mom’s gone for the weekend. Usually everyone likes to come to my house to hang out or whatever. We’ve having a camp out this weekend.” Lexa nods, listening while stacking novels, occasionally stealing glances at the blonde. “So, I know we don’t really know each other but I figured since you’re new in town maybe you’d want to hang out or whatever.” Clarke pauses, anticipating a rejection.

Lexa looks at her, silently contemplating her request. She takes a little too long for Clarke’s comfort, and the blonde is ready to run out the door with her tail tucked between her legs. Instead, Lexa stands and moves to the counter.

Unsure what to do, to leave or awkwardly say a goodbye, Clarke shrugs to her friends. They both sport puzzled faces, Raven mouthing “What the fuck.”

Before she can respond, Clarke has a piece of paper shoved at her. She takes it from Lexa, her brow knit. On it, scrawled in sloppy cursive is this:

_Lexa Woods 274-8872_

A smile spreads through Clarke’s cheeks and through the rest of her body. She bites her lip, “Thanks.”

“I close at-“

“Nine. Right.”

“Right,” Lexa chuckles. “You can text me the details.”

“I will certainly do that, then, later. At nine, or probably a little before then,” Clarke rattles out, collecting her board and bag. She backing to the door, her hands uncontrollable in their gesturing in addition to managing her items. “Thanks again, and sorry again, about the books and the tripping, I’ll make it up to you,” she offers.

That subtle sultry grin makes its appearance again when Lexa says confidently, “I’m sure you will.”

Clarke just laughs and grins like an idiot, she feels Octavia punching her in the arm mumbling encouragements and Raven cackling and pulling them both out the door.

They make their way to the dropship, weaving through the pedestrians and skirting around corners with ease. Clarke feels light and happy, like she’s floating. And she’s certain it’s not because of her board as it drifts effortlessly across the hot pavement of the D.C. streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backyard camping just sounds like fun :) P.S., I don't know shit about sports, but I do know the deliciousness of a Mexican coke in the bottle.   
> And, just FYI all collages I make for my fic can be found at my tumblr: trulybetold


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Twister and tequila are always a good idea.

With an exasperated grunt, Clarke drops an armful of firewood on the deck out back. Octavia’s arranging two large coolers, yammering on about what kinds of alcohol they should be getting while Raven sets up tiki torches in the backyard, very loudly mapping out where everyone’s tent will go.

“So, I feel like those who’ll be banging tonight should be on the far side of the yard,” Raven quips, holding out her thumb and index fingers to mark the spot. “Yeah?”

“Who said anything about banging?” Octavia asks, throwing her hair into a tangled bun.

“Please, you, Lincoln, Clarke, Lexa, it’s a recipe for gettin’ it on,” she cackles, slamming another torch into the soft earth.

Clarke rolls her eyes, keeping herself out of the conversation by stacking wood neatly inside the fire pit. She tilts her head, contemplating if the teepee structure or Lincoln log style stacking will do the best at catching and holding a flame. She’s brought out of her thoughts when Octavia so graciously reminds her it’s fire not rocket science.

“Yo, where’s your head, Griffin,” Raven asks, stomping up the deck stairs to join her friends. They all collapse onto the outside couches, the hard material crinkling under their movement.

After staring at the firewood for another minute, Clarke breaks. “What if she thinks I’m lame?” Her friends groan in sync. “No, seriously? Like, she’s gorgeous, obviously smart, and there’s still a chance she’s straight-”

“Bullshit,” Octavia interrupts, jabbing Clarke’s thigh. “She was about to go down on you right there at the store.”

Raven nods quickly, “Truth, G. She’s _at least_ bisexual, like yourself. Or bicurious, like myself,” she says, her thumb to her chest.

Octavia scoffs, “Bicurious? Really? Do people even use that term anymore?”

The mechanic narrows her eyes, “Uh, yeah, when you’re at a party and a little bump n’ grind with a hot chick makes you wanna take a trip to the bathroom, if you catch my drift-”

“We do,” Clarke says, laughing. “One girl hookup last year and you’ve suddenly mastered your gaydar?”

“Hey, I knew you were bi before you did. That’s gotta count for something,” Raven reminds her. They all agree, taking a moment to chuckle at Clarke’s coming out story. It wasn’t anything special, but Clarke had a tendency to get drunk at parties and end up in bathrooms, bedrooms, or on roofs with other girls. It wasn’t until freshman year of college when Raven caught Clarke hooking up with her math tutor _sober_ in their dorm room that she finally just asked Clarke if she was bi, and Clarke finally decided she was.

“I’ve never seen a girl get dressed so fast,” Raven cackles, her hand on her forehead. “She was so embarrassed.”

“Should have seen her get undressed, _now_ that was fast,” Clarke says, a cocky grin on her lips.

“Didn’t you get an A in that math class?” Octavia asks, giggling through her teeth.

Shaking her head, Clarke reminds them, “Nope, B minus. And after all the hard work I put in, too.” They laugh for a few more minutes, before the giggles die down and they scan the area. So far, the backyard is coming together nicely. They’d always talked about doing a camp out, well in the actual forest, but gas is expensive these days and with Clarke’s mom gone for the weekend, this seemed like the next best thing.

Just then, Clarke thinks of something that makes her shake her head and smile. The girls ask what it is and she presses her lips into a thin line before saying, “We don’t even have tents. Do either of you?”

They sigh collectively, Raven sticking out her tongue. “Bleh, nope. Not much ole family fun camping trips at the Reyes’ house,” she mutters.

Octavia shrugs her shoulders, “Me and Bell just did blanket forts when we were kids.”

Tapping her chin, Clarke thinks. She eyes the field of dark green grass before her. “Blankets will work, right? Not like it’s going to rain or freeze over anytime soon.”

“Bugs, Clarke. Bugs. They’ll drink us dry,” Octavia complain, already scratching at her neck.

“The tiki torches are citronella, O. I’ve got bug spray, you’ll live,” Clarke teases. It’s enough to relax the other girl, until her face twists into a smile. “What, now?”

“Lexa.”

“Oh, god. What about her? It’s bad enough I can’t stop thinking about how to not embarrass myself, I don’t need you reminding me.”

Raven leans forward, resting her chin in hand and propping her arm on her braced leg. “Is she spending the night? Does she know everyone’s spending the night?” Clarke is silent. “Dude! You didn’t tell her? Oh, my god, Griffin. You’re making her into a big deal, she’s not a big deal. She’s just a girl.”

“She’s not just a girl!” Clarke spits back before she can stop herself. She quickly shuts her hands over her mouth, her eyes widen at the wild, grinning faces of her friends. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Clarke, it’s been like two weeks since you met her, and suddenly she’s ‘not just a girl’,” Octavia comments, biting her thumb to suppress her smile. “You’ve got it bad, bro.”

She groans, burying her face in her blonde hair, mumbling curses to herself. She feels Raven’s arm sling around her shoulder, “Look, if this is actually potentially a possible thing,” she starts, pushing Clarke’s hair and hands away from her face, “You’ve got to run with it. Quit pretending you’re not a hot, cool skater chick on the outside who’s not a totally cocky stud muffin on the inside. Right, O?”

The other brunette nods encouragingly, adding, “Yeah, dude. Rave’s right. You’re awesome, and if at the end of the night, Lexa can’t see that, well, then she’s an idiot.” Clarke tells them they’re right, and they both respond with words like “Obviously” and “Duh”. She thanks them for the pep talk, and they proceed to tickle her sides. Octavia stops mid jab and says suddenly. “Wait, so you’ve got to text her. Tell her to pack her PJ’s because… tonight, is the night,” she stands, twirling her finger at Clarke, “when two become one!”

Raven jumps to join her, whirling Octavia around with ease. “I need some love like I never needed love before! Wanna make love to ya, baby!”

“I had a little love, and now I’m back for more! Wanna make love to ya, baby!” Octavia sings, poorly. They’re laughing while singing, and they each hold a hand out to Clarke, waiting.

As much as she wants to ignore them, because essentially, they’re making fun of her. It’s not Clarke’s fault that used to be her top three favorite Spice Girls songs. She didn’t even know what it meant at the time. But, she can’t help but let a wide grin take over her face when she jumps in to sing, “Set your spirit free, it’s the only way to be!” They skip around the deck, singing into imaginary microphones and jumping on the couches. Somewhere between Octavia’s awful impression of Scary Spice and Raven’s Baby Spice solo, Clarke realizes maybe the weekend won’t be so bad after all.

* * *

 

**Group Chat: Da Homiez**

**Rave muh Fave:** CAMP OUT AT THE GRIFFIN HOUSE. BRING BOOZE, BLANKETS, AND FOOD.

**Hellz Bellz:** i take it no 1 has tents…

**OMG it’s O:** bro, the blankets, duh. it’s a backyard not yellowstone

**Hellz Bellz:** excuse me 4 trying to be authentic

**Hellz Bellz:** But i’ll be there to provide U kids with alcohol :P

**Monty Python:** what time! Im so excited!

**Clarkie-G:** 10PM, Monty :)

**Jasps:** ill bring the bud haha

**Rave muh Fave:** of course u will

**Jasps:** how else R we gonna clam bake a tent?

**Hellz Bellz:** u mean blankets lol

**OMG it’s O:** shut up bell

**Clarkie-G:** we’ve got the firewood if U boys will get smores stuff

**Big Talk Murphy:** shouldnt U girls be gettin smores stuff #backinthekitchen

**Rave muh Fave:** EFF OFF MURPHY. NO ONE LIKES U

**Clarkie-G:** Murph ur uninvited

**OMG it’s O:** #murphysadick

**Big Talk Murphy:** I’m KIDDING

**Monty Python:** is it cool if bring Monroe n Harper

**Clarkie-G:** Yeah! No probs, more the merrier

**Rave muh Fave:** as long as everyone brings booze. Priorities people

**OMG it’s O:** & blanket, pls. we need lots of blankets

**Hellz Bellz:** No worries girls, we got it!

**Big Talk Murphy:** can I still come?

* * *

 

Octavia’s fluffing her hair into the perfect messy bun as she pads happily down the stairs. She’s stopped short from entering the kitchen when there’s a knock at the door. _Lincoln._

Butterflies swarm her stomach, _he’s early,_ she thinks. Putting on her cutest pouty smile, she opens the door wide, hand on her jutted-out hip, showing just enough midriff to entice him. Except, there’s not a hulking, tanned mechanic in front of her. There’s a girl wearing a black t-shirt and jean shorts. Long wavy hair spills over her shoulders, and her full lips press into an awkward smile. “Not Raven, right?”

Octavia nods, quick to forgive remembering they’ve never formally met. “Right. I’m Octavia, Raven is the obnoxious loud mouth of the bunch,” she gestures Lexa inside when they hear a cackle erupt from the kitchen. “ _That_ would be Raven.” The darker haired girl takes Lexa by the hand into the back part of Clarke’s house. Along the way, Lexa can’t help but notice and whole-heartedly appreciate the photos lining the Griffin home. Many of them are of Clarke and what she presumes is her mother and father, a fairly decent looking couple cradling a blonde toddler. It makes Lexa smile. Other pictures are of Clarke and her two girlfriends, and considering there’s a photo of the threesome standing in front of a sign that reads ‘third grade’, Lexa’s quick to realize they’ve been friends for a while. When she and Octavia enter the kitchen, they find the source of the loud laughter. Raven’s big mouth.

“Right, right hand blue,” Raven says through heavy breaths. Her eyes are tightly shut from laughing and she’s practically kneeing Clarke in the sides.

“Fuck, I can’t reach,” Clarke says, a giddiness in her tone. She almost slips but catches herself on Raven’s leg.

It looks painful to Lexa, but Raven doesn’t say anything except, “You’re lucky that’s my bad leg!” Then, Lexa notices the discarded leg brace she’s seen Raven sport cast off to the side. She’s puzzled as to why her bad leg wouldn’t be painful until she watched Raven maneuver it to left foot green with one toned arm. Then, it starts to make a little sense.

Lexa stands next to Octavia, both girls lean on the counter watching the two friends spout directions to each other. “Right foot red, bitch!” Raven bellows. Clarke concentrates through giggles to slide her foot beneath Raven’s leg. Lexa watches, quietly. She likes that Clarke hasn’t noticed their presence yet. She likes even more what Clarke’s wearing, which is honestly close to nothing. Just a simple white tank top, and black shorts that show off her toned, tanned legs. Clarke’s long blonde hair dangles, almost reaching the tiled floor when her head juts back in a moment of laughter. She’s drawn away from her blatant staring when Octavia clears her throat.

“Left hand yellow,” she orders with a quirked brow, obviously knowing that the way the two are tangled up, that move is nearly impossible. But the challenged stare Raven sends Clarke is enough to fuel them both to give it a shot. Unfortunately, the shot is ruined when Clarke slips on her socks taking Raven down with her.

“Her ass touched first! I win!” The tanned girl cries, pumping her fist into the air. They both turn to Octavia and notice Lexa for the first time. Raven simply laughs and pats Clarke’s thigh, while the other girl’s mouth forms a small O.

“Oh, hi… Lexa.”

“Hello, Clarke,” Lexa says, almost formally.

Octavia and Raven mutter something about setting the game up outside and before another second can pass, the two are alone. “I, uhm,” Lexa starts, rubbing the back of her neck, “didn’t know I’d be so early.”

Clarke moves to stand next to her. Facing her now, she tugs at her tank top to cover her stomach. She suddenly feels extremely exposed. She wraps her arms around her sides, but when she notices how Lexa’s eyes drift to her pushed up cleavage, she drops them to her sides. Lexa blushes, and moves her eyes to the French doors beyond the kitchen that lead to the backyard. “You’re not early,” Clarke reassures her. “It’s just my other friends aren’t usually on time.” Then, Clarke notices the things in Lexa’s arms. There’s a black leather backpack, a bottle of something, and large knit blanket. “Oh, here! You can put your stuff down,” she says, scratching the back of her arm, “Anywhere you want really, but if you want to like secure them,” Clarke starts, realizing how awkward the words sound, “Not that my friends would ever, like, steal anything, you can put them in my room.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Lexa says. “I brought this, but if it’s not what your friends like, I can go buy something else.” She sets the bottle on the counter.

“It’s tequila, that’s all they care about,” Clarke says. Then, she cocks her head to the side. “Wait, how old are you?”

A flash of confusion paints Lexa’s eyes, “Twenty-one. You? Oh, god, please tell me you’re not in high school-“

Clarke lets out a bark of a laugh, “Ha, no! I’m in college, twenty. I was just wondering if you were like older, way older, I mean.”

“Are my greys showing already?” Lexa asks, touching her hair with a hint of a smile.

Clarke knows she’s joking, but can’t help it when she tries to defend herself. “No, no. I mean no way, you’re like beautiful, no greys or…” she trails off when she sees the smile transition into that damn smirk from earlier. She just closes her mouth and shakes her head.

“I like when you blush, Clarke,” Lexa comments, her voice low and soft.

* * *

 

The blender whirs with a mechanical noise that is hard on the ears. The scent of limes and lemons waft through the air and some indie pop station is playing from the speakers. The girls are all in the kitchen, waiting for Clarke’s margaritas. She’s grateful her friends aren’t embarrassing her, but then again, no one’s had a drink yet. Lexa, Raven, and Octavia are perched on the barstools in front of Clarke while she’s cutting the limes.

“So, you left Seattle for this hell hole? Here’s a tip: go back while you can,” Raven groans. The three of them have lived in D.C. all their lives and have a very passionate love-hate relationship with it.

Lexa’s light as a bell giggle coats the air, and it makes Clarke’s stomach twist. But, the good kind of twisting. She smiles as she saws another lime in half, listening to Lexa’s story. “Well, the University has a strong program for what I want to do, plus, I have some family here.”

“What program?” Octavia inquires, salting the rims of their red Solo cups.

“I want to be an ambassador for the United Nations,” Lexa says, biting her lip. The other three are silent for a moment, all staring at Lexa. “Is that weird?”

“No, it’s impressive as fuck,” Raven clarifies. The other two agree. It’s Lexa’s turn to ask what they’re studying at the University.

Raven explains she’s working on becoming an electrical engineer, “I’m basically going to be a rocket scientist so I can blow things up.”

Octavia explains that’s she’s in-between degrees, uncertain if she wants to pursue criminal justice or forensic psychology. “Then again, with a track record like mine, I’m not sure how far if I’ll ever fit in with the boys in blue.” Lexa wants to question her further in regards to her track record, but then decides maybe it’s not her business.

She turns to Clarke, her chin resting in her hand upon the counter. “And you?”

The blonde sighs, putting the knife down and placing the limes and lemons in a large clear bowl. “Well, I’m doing physiology right now. For med school. My mom’s a surgeon,” she explains.

“But, Clarke’s an amazing artist,” Octavia interrupts, the other girl nodding in agreement.

“Artist?”

“She paints, she draws, she could make art out of garbage,” Raven clarifies. “Which, she did once, in seventh grade to demonstrate the evils of capitalism.” She and Octavia laugh at the memory.

“You’ll have to show me your work sometime,” Lexa adds, bright olive eyes staring into Clarke’s sky-blue eyes. She nods.

Pouring four very large and very strong margaritas with all the toppings, Raven purposes a toast. Because it’s Raven and there’s never a moment without all the dramatics. “A toast, to a weekend of debauchery,” A wicked grin forms on her lips. “A weekend with booze, babes,” She nudges Octavia with her hip. “Boys, and Octavia’s precious blankets.” They laugh. “To old friends, and to new ones,” She nods to Lexa, who smiles in return. “And to just getting really fucking wasted.” They cheers and begin to drink when a clamoring of shoes on hard wood floors and deep voices flow from the front door. “Squad’s here,” Raven says, her brow quirked.

Within seconds a group of rowdy boys and three other girls pile into the kitchen. A tanned, tall boy with dark hair and freckles wraps Clarke in a bear hug that makes Lexa’s insides turn slightly. He keeps his arm slung around her shoulder, even when she greets her other friends. One guy, who looks like he steals cars for a living, hobbles in on crutches, the words ‘Big Talk’ scribbled in cool graffiti decorates the side of his cast. Near him, another guy with longish brown hair and a poor attempt for a mustache has a joint tucked in his ear, a girl with short dark hair clings to his side. The two other girls are nice looking, one with her hair in large poofy braids and the other has a bandana tied around her head and a shirt that reads ‘SKATE OR DIE’.

Lexa is uncertain about this group she’s decided to spend her night with. They certainly are not the typical group she’d align herself with. Then again, Clarke is far from the typical girl she’d ever consider having a crush on. All the girls before Clarke, were the same. Like Costia. All dark features, coy smiles and shy voices. Her heart skips a beat at the thought of her former girlfriend. Her _ex-girlfriend._

But, Clarke, she was different. She was loud, and goofy. She was confident but considerate. And blonde. That was certainly different. Lexa is dazed in watching the interactions before her, all of them talking at once, laughing and teasing, and punching and poking. It’s a lot to take in. She backs to the sink, sipping her drink, but never taking her main attention away from the boy whose hands are on Clarke’s back.

“You must be Lexa,” a voice from her right states.

She spots the voice’s owner. He’s a polite looking Asian guy, wearing relaxed button down with short sleeves, black snug knee-length shorts, and maroon Converse. His smile makes his eyes sparkle, and Lexa immediately likes him the best. “I’m Monty.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Monty,” Lexa says, shaking his hand with a grateful smile. That’s when Clarke spins in the arms of the boy that’s hugging her shoulder.

“Oh, my god. I’m the rudest person ever,” She detaches herself from the guy, a cool grin on his freckled cheeks. She rushes to Lexa’s side, almost knocking her drink down the drain. “I’m so sorry,” she nearly whispers in Lexa’s ear. The brunette reassures that’s it okay, but she knows Clarke probably still feels a little guilty. She’s just glad to have Clarke’s attention again.

“Guys, this is Lexa. She works at _Polis._ Lexa, this is Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, Maya, Monroe, Harper,” she takes a breath, “And you’ve met Monty.”

Just then, Octavia, who must have snuck off during the ruckus, walks in the kitchen. Her arm is linked with a guy’s, large and strong. His head is shaved, except for a short Mohawk down the center. She pats his chest, the smile on her face spreading from ear to ear. “Guys, this is-”

“ _Lincoln_?”

“ _Lexa?”_

The two stare at each other before Lincoln runs and grips Lexa in a huge bear hug. The entire room is sharing confused looks, and Clarke begins to worry about the scowl that Octavia’s sporting. She prays to God Lincoln isn’t an ex.

“What are you doing here?” Lincoln asks, his hands on either side of Lexa’s face. She laughs, and pushes his hands away. Clarke’s watching Octavia watching them, and it’s getting concerning.

“How do you know each other,” She’s quick to inquire.

Now it’s Lincoln with his arm around Lexa, squeezing her tight. She pats his stomach, “Lincoln’s my cousin.”

The wave of relief that washes over Clarke is cool, and she notices Octavia’s expression shift quickly from an angry frown to a mess of giggles.

“Lex, who are you here with?” He asks, gesturing for Octavia to stand at his side. “Octavia invited me. This is my cousin, Lexa,” he explains.

The girls around him laugh. “Yeah, Lincoln. I’m met Lexa, quite a few times actually. She’s here with Clarke.”

The blonde tenses at the word, _with._ But, when she glances to Lexa, the brunette is much more relaxed and gives Clarke a subtle wink. It sends a slight shiver down her spine. She slides next to the girl, their arms touching. Lexa’s sips her drink, but her other hand is at her side. And Clarke feels like she’s imagining things, but she _swears_ she felt Lexa’s fingers graze the outside of her thigh. She gets goosebumps. “Octavia, introduce him,” Clarke states, pointing to the group of friends still chatting and laughing amongst themselves.

The guy with the crutches, who Lexa remembers is Murphy, whistles. “Hey, yeah, if we’re going to do role call again, let a guy at least get a drink.” Not a split second later, he yelps in surprise and almost falls over his crutches. “What the hell!”

Raven walks from behind him, laughing hysterically. She spits an ice cube at him, waving the cup in her right hand. He’s trying to balance himself on one crutch and shake the remaining ice out of his shirt.

She gently kicks his cast with her brace, a sly smirk painting her lips. “First drink’s on me. Or, you, rather.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to include a bit of Lexa's POV. Hope you've enjoyed it! Half of next chapter already finished, can't wait to post it!  
> P.S. I love writing the texting scenes, had a blast coming up with nicknames. :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, duderuses and uteruses,” Raven calls out, snapping her fingers at the group. Murphy and Jasper frown in disgust at her choice in words, but she revels in it. “Deal with it, losers. Never have I ever. Same rules as always, seven fingers up. First bro out is the dirty bird in the group and has to chug from the bowl.”

****The group scatters throughout the Griffin’s backyard. At the beer pong table is Harper and Monroe against Jasper and Maya, currently tied. But, Clarke is sure Harper will win or die trying. Some of them are on the other side of the deck, but Clarke’s chatting with Lexa, Monty and Bellamy, the girl at her side. Every so often, Bellamy shoots Clarke an approving nod or flashes thumbs up. He likes Lexa and that makes Clarke very pleased.

The brunette is inquiring about Monty’s ankle tattoos, and the boy laughs. “Oh, they’re just something Jasper and I convinced ourselves to get when we were drunk.”

“I like them,” Lexa says, sipping her drink.

Clarke turns her attention to the rest of the party, trying to play it cool and not seem so overly interested by hanging on every word Lexa speaks. Her eyes wander, spotting Raven and Octavia in the corner, forcing Lincoln to take pictures of them. Murphy’s there, too, gesturing wildly, telling some exaggerated skate story most likely. However, Clarke’s dragged right back into the conversation when Monty calls out. “Dude, that’s totally awesome. Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, a little on the inside.” Lexa’s sleeve is rolled up and she’s turning her arm letting Monty and Bellamy inspect her intricate tattoo. Clarke’s glued to her bicep and wants to trace every line with her finger and probably would if they were alone. Instead, she tilts her head to the side. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know, Clarke,” Lexa nearly whispers, smirking into her cup once more. She brushes her sleeve down again, returning to her previous conversation with ease, as if she, Monty, and Bellamy were old pals. Clarke isn’t necessarily a part of the conversation, her friends are simply trying to get to know Lexa, so she just listens, content with the questions being posed and answered. After a few more minutes, Raven’s loud mouth calls everyone’s attention.

She slams her drink and points with her thumb toward the fire pit in the grass. “I didn’t buy marshmallows for no reason, dorks. Smore time. Jasper, bring the cooler over. We’re going to play a little game,” she demands. “Everyone.”

For some reason, everyone listens and starts moving. Clarke is continually baffled and enticed by how easily Raven can command a situation. Her voice is loud sure, but there’s something else about her that demands to be heard and seen. She is an Aries, feisty and hardheaded. But, Clarke can’t help but feel it has a little, _tiny_ piece to do with the brace. When Raven had her accident, people praised her for her strength and willpower to get over it. Sometimes, she was like steel, hard and calculated. She took the brace prescribed to her and made it better, lighter and thinner, but stronger. And with the modifications to the brace, Raven’s personality altered slightly, too. She was the same, essentially, but tougher, sassier, and blunter. She didn’t let her brace hold her back, and that much was reflected by her adamant attitude.

Ripping open a bag of marshmallows, Raven plops down on a lawnchair. Others gather around, using rolled up sleeping bags, blankets, and spare chairs to form a circle around the fire. The bag and straightened wire hangers are passed around, as are new drinks. “Alright, duderuses and uteruses,” Raven calls out, snapping her fingers at the group. Murphy and Jasper frown in disgust at her choice in words, but she revels in it. “Deal with it, losers. Never have I ever. Same rules as always, seven fingers up. First bro out is the dirty bird in the group and has to chug from the bowl.”

“What’s the bowl?” Lexa asks.

Clarke sighs, “It’s Raven’s contraption. It’s a huge candy bowl with a long hose attached-”

“Like a beer bong?” Clarke’s expression must have given away her surprise because Lexa nudges her arm with an elbow, “I _have_ been to a party before,” she says defiantly.

“We’ll see,” Clarke laughs, biting her lip. The way Lexa looks at her mouth afterwards is a heavy indicator Clarke’s doing the right thing. She can’t help but notice how Lexa’s been admiring her all evening. First the cleavage (she’s definitely been eyeing Clarke’s ass in her shorts, thanks to Octavia’s persistent styling advice) and the most of all, her lips. Lexa’s been almost careless in how many times she’s been caught gazing at Clarke’s lips. And every time she catches her, Clarke grows a little weaker yet warmer between the legs. Not that she’d ever treat Lexa how she’s treated other girls in the past, because, let’s face it, Lexa’s not _just_ a girl.

Once everyone has refilled their glasses or grabbed a can of beer, Raven hushes the group. “Okay, okay, fingers up. Ha, that’s what she said,” she laughs at her own joke because no one else is. She clears her throat, “Me first, because I’m prettiest… Ow!” Octavia chucks an ice cube at her. “Fine, you can go first,” Raven points at her. “Make it good.”

The Blake sister laughs, “Oh, I’m about to smoke all you. Never have I ever had sex with a girl.”

There’s a collective groan, and Lexa watches as Clarke, Raven, and every guy there takes a drink. Except Monty. He smiles when he leans into her side and states happily, “I’m gay.”

Lexa laughs into her cup when she drinks, “Me too.”

Clarke catches Raven’s eye just in time for her to mouth the words “I told you so.” She shakes her head, and takes a hearty drink. _Damn, Reyes’ gaydar,_ she curses to herself.

“Cheap shot, O,” her brother states, licking his lips.

“Right back at you, Octavia. Never have I ever had sex with a dude,” Murphy says with a smug grin. All the girls, with the exception of Lexa, and the addition of Monty drink.

The blonde tries to sneak a look at Lexa while she drinks, wondering what the girl might think knowing for certain now that Clarke’s bisexual. When her eyes meet Lexa, she met with nothing but a teasing grin.

It’s Monroe’s turn, and she claps her hands together. “This ought to even things out. Never have I ever been in handcuffs.” There are a lot of groans and a lot of drinking. Everyone sips except Bellamy, Maya, Harper, and Monty. Clarke is surprised when Lexa takes the cup to her lips, the girl raising her brow at Clarke’s expression.

“What’d you get arrested for?” She wonders quietly, hoping it’s nothing too terrible and it’s just teen vandalism or destruction of public property. She knows there are other eyes on them, her friends wondering what kind of crime Lexa Woods could possibly be capable of.

Lexa’s puzzled. “I’ve never been arrested.”

“Then how have you ever been in hand- Oh, Oh!” Murphy practically spits out his drink, and Raven and Octavia’s jaws drop, exchanging wild, wondering looks. “Wow, okay. Right, cool.” Clarke stutters. She feels her cheeks burning. She’s expecting Lexa to be at least blushing, but she’s not. She’s just smiling that _damn_ smile.

Raven and Octavia are straining to hear, but aren’t able to when Lexa’s breath is in Clarke’s ear. Clarke just stares at them both, her face pink. Lexa is very, very close when she whispers, “There are other uses for handcuffs, Clarke.”

Her jaw is the one that drops slightly now, and the non-verbal response is enough for Raven and Octavia to get a kick out of their friend’s reaction. “Yup, right. Figured as much,” Clarke replies, quickly. “Who’s next?”

Raising his hand, Monty opens his mouth to speak. He pauses when Raven calls his name. “Monty… Do it.” He slumps his shoulders, and she points at him. “Do. It. Set the truth free.” She says dramatically.

Everyone looks around slightly confused, and Clarke is hoping this isn’t about to turn into some intimate moment with people’s darkest secrets unfolding. No, tonight is supposed to be fun. _Tonight is supposed to be-_

“Never have I ever thought Clarke’s mom was hot,” he says, monotone.

_-fun._ One by one, Clarke watches as the majority her friends stifle their laughter and take a sip. Really, the only ones who don’t are Monty, Octavia, Lincoln, and Maya.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Reyes?” Clarke asks, giving away plenty of dirty glares. She rolls her eyes and is about to apologize to Lexa for her friends’ immaturity but is shocked when Lexa tips the cup to her lips. “Lexa,” she says flatly, poking the girl’s arm. “You’ve never even met my mom.”

“Raven was courteous enough to show me pictures. It was your family vacation to…”

“The Bahamas,” Raven finishes. “I mean, the phrase Bahama Mama, it’s quite fitting. Your mom rocks the bikini and _everyone_ here agrees.”

Clarke groans, “Bellamy, you lived with us for _two years_. Come on.”

“It was a wonderful two years, Clarke,” he chuckles.

“I am so disturbed.” It’s all Clarke can mutter, but she’ll be a good sport. Truly, she is dumbfounded how she managed to have the groups’ hot mom and it’s confounding that majority of her friends agree. Confounding and disturbing.

“We’re only teasing,” Lexa says softly, brushing her fingers against Clarke’s arm.

Clarke raises a brow at her, “You might be,” she points at Raven. “Reyes isn’t.”

“Damn right I’m not!” Raven calls out through a cupped hand. The rest of the group has a good hearty laugh before moving to the next player: Lexa.

The girl ponders a moment, before her eyes light up with an idea. A wicked grin spreads across her lips when she says simply, “Never have I ever been on a skateboard.”

Gasps are heard around the circle, and this time every single player takes a drink. No one is exempt and by the look on Lexa’s face, she’s quite proud of her statement. But, Clarke is confused. “Wait, how is this possible?”

She gestures to all them casually, “You are all the only skaters,” she says hesitantly, “that I’ve ever hung out with. Never had the chance.”

“Well that’s definitely going to change this weekend,” Clarke ensures, sipping again just for good measure. The others agree, mentions of the dropship and which kind of board is a better starter board are heard. Longboard versus penny board versus skateboard. It’s a debate Clarke knows will last late into morning unless she gets them back on track, but she knows she’ll start Lexa on a longboard. “Okay, guys. Relax, my turn. Never have I ever played strip poker.”

Only half the group drinks, and Clarke notes that Lexa is not one of them. _Well, there’s another thing we could learn this weekend,_ she thinks quickly to herself before nudging Bellamy with her foot. “You’re up, Bell.”

He only has two fingers down. Besides Maya, he’s coming out on second for least fingers lost. He hums for a second, before deciding on a statement. “Never have I ever broken a bone.”

It’s hard to believe, but it’s magically true. Bellamy, the best trickster of their group has yet to break a single bone. It’s a miracle actually. The most damage he’s ever done is a sprained ankle or minor concussion, but never an actual fractured bone. The majority them, however, aren’t so lucky.

Everyone except him and his sister take a drink. Murphy flips him the bird, “Really? Way to rub it in, Blake.”

“Yeah, Blake, you’ve got two cripples here. Way to rub it in!” Raven chides, tapping her brace against the ground, sending everyone into fit of giggles.

He panics for a moment, “No, I wasn’t directing it at you, specifically. Murphy definitely, but like, everyone’s broken something-”

“Geez, relax. I’m kidding,” Raven says, waving his apology off with a wink and a sip from her cup.

“I’m not a cripple,” Murphy comments, picking at his plaster cast.

Raven throws an ice cube at him, “Not yet you aren’t. Brace or not, I could make that cast a permanent necessity,” she says it as a joke, but they are all aware she could act on it. Murphy laughs along, but Clarke sees how he swallows hard at Raven’s threat. “Who’s next?”

“Nuh, uh, Reyes. You’re spent,” Octavia interrupts.

“What! No I’m not!”

Octavia furrows her brow, her finger scanning the circle. “Seven people have gone, and you’ve put a finger down for every ‘Never Have I Ever’.”

Everyone’s eyes are on Raven, the tanned girl clearly annoyed. “This is bullshit.”

“They’re your rules!” Bellamy laughs.

Octavia cups her hand to her mouth when she shouts, “Prepare the bowl!”

“Clarke, where’s the bowl?” Jasper asks.

Clarke informs him that the bowl is tucked under her bed where her mother couldn’t find it. She says she’ll get it for them. Then, she turns to Lexa. “Want to come set it up with me?” Lexa agrees, following Clarke into the house, both with two beers in their hands.

She feels Lexa’s eyes on her as they ascend the stairs. Turning the corner, she pries open her door with her foot. She drops the beer on her bed, completely distracted with finding the bowl. She gets down on all fours and shuffles around under her bed. “Ah ha! Here it is,” she proclaims, tugging the bowl out by the hose. She stands, spotting Lexa in the center of her room staring at the far wall. On it are tons of her drawings, sketches of her friends, watercolors of landscapes, and pictures of her friends doing stunts. She’s about to explain herself, wondering if Lexa’s silence is an indication of dislike for her work, when there’s several calls from downstairs. “Let’s go on the balcony.”

Lexa tears her eyes from the wall and nods, fumbling to grab the other two beers. They appear on the balcony that is attached to Clarke’s room. Clarke heaves the hose over the side resting the bowl on the ledge. Bellamy catches it, kinking the end. The group below chants for Raven to step up and she does begrudgingly. “Here, open those and set them on the edge,” Clarke instructs.

“You’re going to make her drink all four?” Lexa asks.

Laughing, Clarke shakes her head. “No, no. But, usually when one person chugs from the bowl the others end up doing it, too.” The other girl nods in understanding and begins popping open the cans. Clarke calls down to the crowd before her, asking if Raven’s ready.

“I was born ready, losers,” She hollers back, a wicked grin on her face. She holds the hose close to her mouth and flashes Clarke a thumbs up.

Waving the can over the railing, Clarke shouts back. “To the bottom!”

“To the bottom!” Her friends shout back in unison. They laugh and chant Raven’s name. Clarke tips the can over into the bowl and the amber liquid swirls around before bubbling down the hose end. Clarke gestures to Lexa, and the brunette is quick to pour the second can. They both peer over the balcony, watching as Raven drinks. She’s quick to pass the hose to Jasper, who’s standing right beside her. He chugs a few and hands it to Monty who does the same. Clarke tells Lexa to pour the other two cans in, both of them laughing at the faces everyone is making. The bowl is finished and her friends holler and laugh in excitement, Raven says something about the music, but Clarke can’t quite hear her.

They’re back in her room and Clarke shoves the bowl and hose way under her bed, opting to stuff a pillow and dirty clothes as well to hide it better. When she stands, Lexa is close. Very close. As in, how-did-Clarke-not-notice kind of close. “Whoa, hi.”

“Hi,” Lexa giggles. The sound of Lexa making anything more than a soft, subtle laugh like she’s used to makes Clarke weak in the knees. Like, impossibly so.

She swallows thickly, nervously brushing her hair behind her ear. Her eyes dance around the room, eager to focus on anything but the girl in front of her. Her palms are sweating, and Clarke is damning herself for getting so worked up. She feels Lexa’s eyes on her, shifting and following. She’s forced to meet her gaze when there’s a sharp tug on the hem of her shirt.

“Relax,” Lexa says, her hand palming Clarke’s hip. It takes her less than a second for her other hand to travel to wrap her delicate fingers around Clarke’s bicep.

Clarke lets out a breathy laugh, “I can’t. Not when you’re touching me like that.”

A smirk creeps onto Lexa’s cheeks, “Then how’re you supposed to handle this?” Before Clarke can even think of an answer or realize what the brunette is hinting at, Lexa’s leaning in and a moment later her lips are on Clarke’s.

She’s not sure why, but for a split second, Clarke is utterly surprised. Her eyes widen and brows raise, but then she _gets_ it. Lexa is kissing her, soft and slow. Her lips graze over Clarke’s, moving and pressing expertly. Clarke’s like putty, molding herself against the brunette and her full lips. Lexa breaks them apart, only for a second, tilting her head the other way, their noses brush gently before Lexa’s again pressing into Clarke. Her hands wander Clarke’s sides, carefully and cautiously.

It takes everything in Clarke’s being not to push Lexa onto her bed and undress her. She wants so badly to taste her skin and feel her body. Clarke wants to hear Lexa’s voice scream her name and also hold her until the sun comes up. But, she can’t. Not now. Not yet.

Clarke steps back, separating them enough to break the kiss but not so far that Lexa’s hands leave her body. But, the sudden detachment must have put Lexa on alert because her hands retract and fall to her sides. She takes a step back and Clarke feels incredibly stupid. “I… uhm… it’s just that- I,” Clarke tries, but the concerned expression in Lexa’s frown panics her. “No, I just… If you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to want more-”

“And that’s bad because?” Lexa questions, her eyebrow quirked.

Clarke collapses on her bed, a strong sigh leaves her lungs. “It’s not that it’s bad,” she peers up at Lexa, hoping she doesn’t sound like a complete moron. Her lips press together before she continues, “It’s just…I _like_ you Lexa. And I don’t want to screw it up.”

Lexa smiles, a full, beautiful smile. “Well, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think you thought I was gross or something.”

“No, you’re far from gross,” Clarke replies flatly. “And a really great kisser and I’m sure you’re really great at other things.” This time, Lexa blushes but is confident when she nods her head in agreement. Clarke breathes a relaxed laugh, continuing, “But, I… I’m not ready for that kind of greatness. Not yet.” The grin painted on her lips matches Lexa’s, a teasing smile mixed with a hint of bashfulness.

Lexa tucks her hands behind her back and bends at the waist. Their faces are level and she leans forward, connecting their lips in a series of soft, full kisses. Clarke can’t help but chase Lexa’s lips when the brunette pulls away. Lexa winks, heading for the hall. She stops short, says casually over her shoulder before moving onto the stairs, “You’re right. You’re not ready for that kind of greatness. _But_ , we’re going to have a lot of fun preparing.”

Her footsteps are light on the stairs, and Clarke needs a minute to soothe her insides. She laughs to herself and shakes her head. She stands to exit the room, sighing to herself, “She’s _definitely_ not just some girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thanks to everyone who's read, commented, and bookmarked. This has been such fun to write!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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